Star Ocean: Combat Evolved
by Ryden and Xephfyre
Summary: Sequel AU crossover fic. The party had successfully defeated Luther, but he managed to delete their entire universe. After a month, a new Milky Way is created, but what awaits the party in their new galaxy? HaloSO3 Crossover
1. Prolouge

Disclaimer: Don't own no nothing, so sue me.

Author's Note: This is a AU/Sequel fic, plus I (The Chief) haven't really finished SO3 yet, so I'll be relying on the Master's expertise to correct any mistakes I might have made. Still, the ending will be different from the original due to the very nature of this fic (AU). In short, the ending and the following events are not the same as those in the game. So please do not expect anything except for what you see.

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Full Summary: Fayt and the others had successfully defeated Luther, but he was able to delete the entire universe before being erased and therefore winding up dead. With no other place left to go to, the party has no choice but to eke out an existence in 4D space. But when Blair and her Eternal Sphere team manage to restore and recreate the Milky Way, what will be awaiting the party in their restored home galaxy should they decide to return? SO3/Halo crossover

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Prolouge

"Dimension Doo-"

"Too slow, boy!"

_WhackThud!_ Fayt's limp body was hurled across the arena as Luther reached across the distance between them with his spear and cut him off in mid-casting with a savage blow to his ribs. A brutal impact against one of the many pillars that dotted the arena halted Fayt's momentum, and he crashed to the floor.

Cliff came charging forward, eager to avenge his fallen comrade. "Think you can handle this?" He cried out as he lunged forward, fully intending to drive a viscous Uppercut into his opponent's chin, but Luther beat him to it.

"Much less than I would care to handle!" Luther shot back as he dodged out of the way with unnatural speed and drove his spear into Cliff's midsection as the blonde attempted to recover from his failed strike. The Klausian screamed in agony as the bladed tip of the spear impaled him through his left kidney, and he was quickly brought to his knees as Luther brutally yanked out the spear and followed it up with a beam of energy to Cliff's kneeling form, blowing him across the arena and coming to a rest somewhere close to Fayt.

"CLIFF!" Mirage normally didn't lose her head during a fight, but at the sight of her comrade being struck down, she lost all control. Screaming like a banshee, Mirage threw herself towards Luther, kicking and punching for all she was worth. A few swing of Luther's spear, and she was brought down just like the rest.

"Bah. Too easy." Luther spat at the fallen forms of his first three opponents. "Is this the best you have to offer?" He shouted at the remaining five who still stood against him.

Albel growled and set his katana in an offensive position. Time to teach this over-confident maggot a lesson. "You're about to realize you've severely underestimated us, worm!" Charging forward, Albel unleashed a barrage of Air Slashes that even someone as fast as Cliff would be hard-pressed to dodge. Unfortunately for Albel, Luther was even faster than Cliff.

Albel was so concentrated on being on the offensive, so bent on defeating the arrogant worm before him, that he didn't even see Luther's counterattack until it literally kicked him in the face. Staggering backward, Albel dropped his katana and clutched at his shattered nose as he fell to one knee. _That's it, now I'M MAD!_ Albel flexed his claw-arm and brought it backwards, ready to swing. "HAND OF DOOM!" He shouted as he dashed forward, swinging his claw back and forth in a dicing motion, intent on slicing the maggot to pieces.

Luther was much faster. He quickly sidestepped to Albel's right and bent backwards 90-degrees, causing Albel's hasty attack to completely miss. Albel caught himself and attempted to recover for another strike when Luther blasted him with a beam of energy and threw him across the arena, his clothes smoking from the heat of the attack. Albel was unconscious before he hit the ground.

"This is pathetic! And to think that you actually defeated the likes of Azazer, Berial and Belzeber..."

Nel couldn't take it anymore. Already four of her comrades had been too easily defeated by this god-like entity, and now he was goading them on, taunting them! Her self-restraint finally snapped. If she was going to die fighting this god-like entity, she wouldn't die without a fight! "You'll pay for what you've done Luther!" Yelling out a stream of expletives as she threw herself into the battle, she transformed into a frenzy of slashing movements, her dagger moving faster than the naked eye could see.

"Mirror Slic-"

"Die, fool!" Luther didn't even need to use his spear. He caught her completely off-guard with a beam of energy, and she was blasted backwards. Her body, clothing still smoking from the energy beam, skidded across the floor and came to a stop close to where Albel landed.

Maria, Sophia and Adray tensed as Luther turned his gaze towards them. "If we're going down, then we're not going down without a fight!" Maria cried out, mirroring Nel's sentiments. She drew out her pulse gun and started firing, but Luther weaved left and right, dodging all her shots. Maria's face contorted into a mask of rage as she started firing even faster. Her pulse gun started to overheat, but she didn't care. This man, claiming to be the 'Creator', dared to commit such atrocities! He was worse than the Aldians and the Vendeeni put together! And seeing Fayt struck down by him... that was more than enough to push her over the edge. Pulling the trigger as fast as she could, she started running towards Luther, firing as she went. Adray followed her, drawing his sword and leaping upwards to meet Luther's attack as Luther advanced toward them.

The battle between the two airborne combatants was brief, but spectacular. Adray was clearly fighting with all his might, brilliantly attacking and defending against Luther's attacks, thrusting, slashing, and parrying with all the strength he could muster. For a brief moment, it seemed as though Adray could possibly defeat Luther, that is, until Luther found a gap in Adray's defenses and made full use of it.

With two quick thrusts, he had Adray on the defensive. Then, he ducked left to dodge Adray's counter attack before piercing out with his spear. Forming a shield with Symbology, Adray protected himself from the brunt of the attack, but was still thrown back slightly by the impact. It was now that Luther struck.

Blood exploded outward from Adray's gaping mouth as the thrown spear impaled him through the stomach and pinned him to the ground. He weakly grabbed the shaft of the spear and tried to pull it out, but his strength failed him at the last moment, and his limp arms fell to his side. He twitched twice, and finally stilled

Eager to avenge the old man, Maria shifted her pulse gun to 'auto' and sent a hell-storm of pulse blasts in the direction of the all-powerful creator. The bright flashes burnt holes into the walls behind Luther, but the Creator was unfazed by the attack.

"Trying to defeat me with what I created? Foolish girl…" Luther muttered as a snap of his fingers shattered her gun to mere scrap metal.

Her vision flooding red with rage, Maria leapt into the air, attempting to slam her foot into the Creator. But this was what he had planned all along; his provocation worked. Just as she was about to deliver a hard kick to Luther's head, he spun around and grabbed her ankle a split-second before it impacted with his cranium. Spinning around for a few times to gain momentum, he finally threw Maria with all his might towards the nearest wall, right next to Sophia.

The resulting impact was... painful, to say the least. From where she was standing, Sophia could hear the agonizing sounds of several bones breaking as Maria slammed against the wall with a pained scream. Sophia quickly rushed over to Maria and tried to catch her as she fell, but she failed and Maria fell to the floor with an audible thud, no doubt worsening her injuries. Small fortune; Maria was unconscious when she hit the floor, sparing her any pain.

"Bah. What a waste of my time..." Sophia audibly gulped at Luther's remark. Luther smirked. "You're next, little girl!"

Sophia was sweating rivers by now. She was extremely afraid. If Luther could beat the other so easily, what could _she _possibly do against him? There was only one thing she could do. Praying that she would have just enough time to cast this final spell before Luther ended her life, she started the invocation of the symbol, even as Luther started advancing towards her.

By the time Luther was winding up for a strike, Sophia was already on the last syllable of the invocation. Just as Luther thrust his spear towards her heart, she yelled out "RESURRECTION!"

Immediately after she screamed out the final syllable of the word, Luther's spear impaled her through her chest, missing her heart by mere inches. Her scream caused Fayt's head to shoot up from its resting position on the floor, and he cried out, "No! SOPHIA!"

Luther yanked out the spear and turned towards Fayt. Staggering to his feet, Fayt used his sword as a crutch to support himself. The other party members, who were also revived by Sophia's desperate restoration spell, also slowly got to their feet.

Luther snorted derisively. "So these are my opponents? Weaklings who can barely stand up on their own two feet?" He threw his head back and laughed heartily, clearly mocking the party.

Albel stumbled and slowly got up, paying no heed to his bleeding nose, his katana still clutched determinedly in his hand.

Cliff and Mirage slowly pushed themselves up with their arms and got to their feet, wavering unsteadily and using each other as supports.

Nel also stumbled to her feet and unsheathed both her daggers, holding them out in a ready position.

Adray pulled the spear out of his stomach with newfound strength and, with a quick healing spell, sealed the wound and retrieved his sword from the ground.

Maria, ignoring the several cracks that she heard coming from her bones, pushed herself to her feet and staggered unsteadily.

Fayt, still staggering, moved over to Sophia's bleeding, unconscious form, and silently pulled out an Analeptic. As he opened the vial and poured the contents onto Sophia's wound, the party staggered over to where he was and rallied behind him.

Luther arched an eyebrow. Were they really thinking of fighting him like this? A futile gesture…

"You're wrong Luther. We aren't weaklings." Fayt suddenly said. Luther was terribly tempted to laugh at this. Not weaklings? Then how did he manage to completely kick their rear-ends just now?

"You seriously need a lesson in humility, Luther." Albel's serpentine voice resounded across the arena as he twirled his katana in a circle

"Never underestimate a pissed off Klausian, Luther." Cliff said in a grave tone. The sound of Mirage cracking her knuckles punctuated Cliff's sentence.

"You can't possibly expect forgiveness after what you did to Sophia." Fayt stated darkly. Already, a divine aura was starting to envelope him.

"You made one mistake by giving us something Luther," Maria said staring at him with her menacing eagle-eyes, "Determination."

_Ok, looks like they mean business this time…_ Luther thought as he prepared for whatever the party was planning to do. He started to prepare a defensive aura, but the sheer ferocity of the party's sudden attack caught him completely off guard.

"MAX SHOCKWAVE!" Cliff smashed his fist into the ground and sent forth a powerful shockwave that smashed through Luther's defensive shield like a stone smashing through glass. Luther recoiled from what managed to penetrate his shield, and he attempted to quickly recover from the blow, but Mirage was already there to follow-up Cliff's attack.

"BLAZING CANNON!" Two lightning-fast uppercuts had Luther in the air, and then he was pummeled by repeated blasts of energy bolts. By the time Mirage was finished with him, Luther's fury had been drained so much he couldn't even hope to evade the next attack, much less put up a defensive shield.

"AIR SLASH OF FURY!" "SPLITTING SKY!" "EMOTION TORRENT!"

Albel, Nel and Adray attacked at the same time, completely devastating the still-airborne Luther. Between the numerous shockwaves being sent forth by the Crimson Scourge, the lightning bolts emanated from the Blades of Ryusen, and the explosive power of the orb created by Adray, Luther fell to his knees before the terrible assault. Even as he struggled to get up, the attacks weren't over yet.

"RADIATION BOTS!" "METEOR SWARM!"

Eager for revenge, Maria and the recently revived Sophia unleashed their full power on the Creator. With the radiation bots taking their cues from the numerous meteors crashing down on Luther's kneeling form, the Creator was completely and utterly driven into the ground by the incredible forces that were pummeling him over and over again.

_This… cannot be… I am the creator… I cannot be defeated! _Still refusing to believe that he had been defeated, Luther slowly crawled forward, feebly attempting to get up. He stretched out a hand to his fallen spear, desperate to retrieve it, but a familiar booted foot kicked it out of reach.

Turning his gaze skyward, Luther was greeted by the sight of Fayt Leingod towering over him, surrounded by a divine aura.

"Going somewhere, Luther?" Fayt inquired, his eyebrow arched sardonically at Luther.

Luther chuckled to himself. These fools had no idea what he was fully capable of…

"Hey! What's so funny?" Cliff shouted. Luther started to cackle loudly.

"Ahahahahahahaha! You fools! You actually believe you can defeat _me_?" Luther continued to cackle insanely. "You'll never win! I'll delete your entire universe before I let you win! Hahahahahaha!"

Pulling a small data pad out of his pocket, Luther rapidly pressed a number of buttons and firmly pushed his thumb on the 'execute' button.

Instantaneously, the entire party was overcome by an overwhelming sense of loss. Cliff and Mirage's knees buckled and they collapsed to the ground, clutching at their heads, trying desperately to cope with the raw emotions raging about within their minds. Albel collapsed to the ground, his metal arm clawing madly against the ground as he screamed in nameless emotional agony and grief, his mind revisiting all his childhood nightmares. Nel simply fell to her knees as her pupils dilated in complete shock. She scrambled backwards against the wall and huddled against it, whimpering. Sophia was lying on her back, sobbing madly as she tried to gasp in air. Maria simply stood in a comatose state, not believing that she was experiencing such emotions again. Adray fell to his knees, banging his fists repeatedly against the ground in frustration, not being able to comprehend such emotions.

Only Fayt stood strong against the onslaught of negative emotions that Luther was unleashing upon them. Staggering up to the Creator's prone form, the divine aura around Fayt flared with sudden brightness.

Luther continued to cackle insanely, but he faltered slightly as the sight of Fayt standing before him, body literally glowing with power that the Destruction Gene granted him.

"You think you'll win with that fancy symbology you've got! I'm the Creator! I'll never be defeated!" Luther continued to cackle as he clutched onto his data pad and continued deleting the Milky Way.

Fayt had had enough. He had to stop this madman before all was lost. His mental barriers were already starting to weaken; he didn't know how much longer he could last.

It was now or never.

Pouring his entire self into concentrating the power within him, he rose into the air and extended the wings that the gene granted him.

Luther stopped laughing and gazed upward at the Angel of Destruction that hovered above him. He tried to turn away from the vision of Death and Destruction that was before him, but his muscles wouldn't respond to his commands.

Fayt was more than ready. The power within him was practically screaming for release. All he needed was focus. If he let his powers run amok, it could very well destroy his enemy, as well as all those dear to him. Thoughts of people like Cliff, Mirage, Nel, Maria, Sophia, Albel…

His eyes shot open and he shouted out the last words that Luther would ever hear.

"ETHEREAL BLAST!"

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Well, this is where the prologue ends. What do you think so far? I hope the OOC-ness wasn't too bad… 

If you have to flame, flame constructively, ok? There's nothing we love more than compliments and/or constructive criticism, as these can greatly improve our writing.

So review ASAP. We'll be waiting for the email alerts!

This is the Chief, signing out.


	2. When Heroes Get Bored

Disclaimer: Shoot me…please…

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Author's Note (Master): I'm feeling pretty random here so this chapter is full of jokes. We're taking a break form the action. Feel free to skip it and leave a "WTF" in your review. Thanks.

Author's Note (Chief): As the Master said, this chapter's got quite a bit of humor, and a bit of err… drunken romance. But it's got a bit of story element in it, so don't skip it like that Master said!

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Chapter 1: When Heroes Get Bored

"RIIIIIING" The holographic display screen on a side table in one of Manor de Blair's many bedrooms went from dead silent to jet engine loud in a short space of 2 milliseconds.

It spent that amount of time ringing too.

As soon as it started its wake up call, a sleek katana sprung out of the bed, ripping bed sheets and linens, made a clean slice down, severing the space-age alarm clock into two halves.

"Goddamn stupid maggot just had to set the alarm so early…" muttered Albel as he dragged himself painfully out of bed. Blurrily, he rubbed his eyes, and smiled at the birds that greeted him cheerfully by chirping outside his window. The sun was nice and bright and the morning air was cool and fresh.

Then his smile changed to his usual, angry expression.

_Fuck the birds… _He muttered as he grabbed a phase gun from under the bed and reduced them to atoms.

_Fuck the Sun…_ He muttered again as he grabbed his towel hanging from a nearby chair, then slicing the chair into several pieces of scrap metal.

_Fuck the goddamned morning air…_ He muttered yet again, slicing the door to the washroom open with two forceful strokes.

Sure, he got his nickname "Wicked" from killing off every prisoner he took, but that was only a half truth. The real reason was because between when he woke up until the time he got his coffee, getting in his sight would have a lower survival rate than detonating a C4 explosive strapped onto your chest.

He tried to turn on the tap, but the faucet, as though mocking him refused to budge.

"Grrr…stupid worm," he grumbled, and then looked up at his reflection in the mirror. Even _that_ seemed to be laughing at him.

"What are you laughing at maggot!" he called out before smashing the mirror. He then proceeded to draw the Crimson Scourge and make confetti out of the washroom.

* * *

In the living room of the manor, Nel and Mirage were reading the newspapers and enjoying coffee when they heard the ruckus from upstairs.

"Albel's up…"

"That's early."

* * *

"So then the husband said, 'Honey, if you could learn to cook, we could fire the chef.' And the wife replied, 'Honey, if you could learn to make love, we can fire the gardener!"

"Oh god," gasped Fayt before bursting out into a mad fit of laughter with Adray and Cliff.

Blair's cook, Bob, was entertaining his employer's guests with one of his many jokes. He was enjoying their company, finally some people who appreciated his sense of humor. Then the corridor was filled with wild curses, metal striking metal, and vases breaking.

"I think that Albel friend of yours is up. Better get him some coffee," said Bob as he scurried to the coffee machine to fix some quad shot espressos.

"Morning Albel, I see you're up early today," greeted Adray.

"ShutthefuckupbeforeIdecidetogetnastyandchopyouup," scowled Albel before sipping his coffee.

"Ahh…that's better. Where were we?" he said, with a drastic change to his voice and facial expression.

"Good morning," Adray said again, with a hint of irritation in his voice.

"Good morning big maggot, I see you're up rather early today."

"So Albel, want to join us?" asked Cliff.

"No thanks, me and Bob got…erm…goof to play," replied Albel.

"It's golf," corrected Bob.

"Whatever stupid maggot, get the clubs."

* * *

"I see you're really improving at this game Albel. Soon enough you'll actually be able to make the golf ball go where you want it too," praised Bob.

"Shut it maggot. I'm trying to play here," muttered Albel as he took a swing at the tee again.

**CRASH! SMASH!**

"Oh Blair's going to get pissed when she finds the windscreen of her Mercedes broken."

* * *

"So anyways, what you call it when a Klausian drowns?" asked Cliff.

"It's a…" tried Fayt.

"DUCK!" yelled Roger.

"Hey! That's not fair! Why do you always crack my riddles so…"

**CRASH! **

A golf ball slammed into Cliff's head at terminal velocity, nearly knocking him off his chair.

"What the…" muttered Cliff as he turned around to face the direction of his "assailant".

**CRASH!**

Another golf ball crashed in, this one slamming smack into his forehead.

"Oh that Albel's gonna get it good…"

* * *

"You know, some professional golfers like to take a running start before they make the swing to gain extra leverage," suggested Bob, "You might want to give it a shot."

"Sure thing," replied Albel as he took a few steps back, then charged forth and swung the golf club.

It was perfect. The flight was excellent; the distance was good, the direction was correct for once, except for one minor error. The thing flying, wasn't exactly the ball, it was the club. To make matters worse, Cliff suddenly came out of nowhere, and walked…straight into the flight path of the club.

**CRASH! **

"Hey Cliff, you okay?" yelled Bob.

"Good for nothing son of a bitch!" was the reply.

"The maggot's angry…" muttered Albel.

"What should we do?" asked Bob.

"Run!"

* * *

After several minutes of hiding from Cliff, the two returned to their golf game once the fuming blonde stomped back into the manor, the welts on his head a bright red.

"Ok, Albel, take another try at it." Bob encouraged. "Your last umm… 'Swing' was much better than the last! Try again, just don't toss the club this time…"

Albel was beginning to get very frustrated with his many errors, and he vented his woes upon the tiny little white ball before him for the umpteenth time. He swung the club with all his might, and the golf ball flew straight and true… or rather, straight and 'through', as the wild tee shot shattered another one of Blair's windows.

"This is gonna be a long day…" Bob muttered as Albel roared out his frustration to the world.

* * *

(A/N: Ok, it's about afternoon now at Blair's mansion.)

Cliff was pretty pissed off at Albel right now, and right now he knew only one thing that would drain away the anger and terrible need for revenge that burned within him; alcohol.

Fully intending to grab an armful of vodkas and whiskeys and share them with the rest of the guys, he strode into the kitchen, where Nel, Mirage and Sophia were valiantly attempting, and miserably failing, to teach Maria how to cook.

* * *

"Ok Maria looks like it's time to add the pepper." Sophia stated as she watched Maria's cooking sizzle on the stove.

Maria nodded and was about to grab the bottle of pepper on the counter when a sudden loud curse caused the four girls to start. Instead of grabbing the pepper, Maria's jump caused her hand to shift to the right just enough to grab the bottle next to the pepper instead.

Glancing over at the fridge, Mirage stared at Cliff as the blonde Klausian continued to swear.

"Goddamnit!" Cliff shouted loudly as he discovered that the fridge was completely bereft of any alcoholic beverages. " I knew we shouldn't have raided the fridge for those beers last Sunday!" With his hands empty, Cliff stormed out of the kitchen.

Sighing, Mirage turned back to Maria and her cooking as she shook the 'pepper' onto her cooking.

A few minutes later, an odor began to pervade the otherwise pleasant-smelling kitchen air. "Is something burning?" Nel asked as she sniffed the air.

"That can't be right, it's been cooking for only two minutes." Sophia leaned in closer and inhaled deeply, only to double over coughing. "You're right, it smells like it _is_ burning."

"Wait a minute." Mirage said. "_This_ is the pepper," she stated, holding up the bottle of seasoning. "And it looks… unopened… Maria, what did you put in there?"

Maria lifted up the bottle in her hand and inspected the label closely. Reading the single 9-letter-word on the label, she let out squeak of fear. Her face paled instantly, and she looked ready to weep.

"Maria, what is it?" Nel plucked the bottle out of Maria's trembling hands and her eyes widened in shock as she read the label.

The bottle was labeled 'Gunpowder'.

"OH SH…"

_**KABOOM!

* * *

**_

Cliff stared at the kitchen door as it shook from what seemed to be a fiery explosion. Tendrils of smoke wisped out from the crack the beneath the door.

"Boy, am I glad I didn't stick around for _that_ show." Cliff muttered to himself as he continued to stalk away. Being well familiar with Maria's kitchen disasters on board the Diplo, the Klausian was truly grateful that he hadn't been in the kitchen when the explosion occurred.

Looking out the window, he took in the peaceful sight of the trees swaying in the breeze, the birds chirping merrily, the white blur that was zooming towards the window the Klausian was looking out of… wait a minute. White blur?

It took Cliff's brain a few moments to register that Albel was still outside playing golf, and that the white blur speeding towards the window could very well be a golf ball…

"HOLY CRAP!" The blonde man yelled as he threw himself down onto the floor, avoiding the runaway tee shot as it crashed through the window, and subsequently pulverized the lock to the door that was opposite Cliff. The door swung open, revealing a flight of stairs that led downward.

Fascinated by his new discovery, he completely forgot about Albel's wild tee shots as he descended down into Blair's cellar, wondering what could she possibly hide there.

Groping around in the dark for a light switch, he found one after a few moments. Flipping it on and turning around, he was greeted by the sight of a bounty unlike anything he had ever seen in his life.

"Oh my god…" Cliff whispered in awe, his eyes uncharacteristically brimming with tears of joy. "It's beautiful…" He stretched his hands out to claim his prize.

Shelves fully stacked with vodkas and whiskey bottles, huge stacks of beer cans, entire kegs of ale! "We're gonna have one hell of party tonight!" The Klausian whooped in delight as he gathered all the alcohol he could in his hands and dashed upward to the living room where Fayt, Roger and Adray were slacking off.

* * *

(A/N: Right about the evening now, reaching nighttime soon. Here comes the drunken romance part!)

"So where'd Cliff go, anyway?" Roger piped up as Fayt idly flipped through the channels on the Video Display Unit.

"Dunno. Went to take revenge on Albel, who knows where he went after that." He replied, ignoring the bear-like snores of the massive Aquarian who was napping on the couch. So far Fayt and Roger had tried poking the swordsman awake, then they resorted to more hard-hitting methods, like throwing pillows and cushions at him. None of them managed to rouse the bear-like man from his sleep.

Suddenly, a yellow-hued tornado blew into the room as Cliff barged in with his arms full of alcoholic drinks. "Hey guys! Look what I found!" He cried out, dumping the bottles of vodka and cans of beer onto the coffee table.

"Wow, Cliff!" Fayt exclaimed, astounded by such a find. "Where'd you get all of this?"

"Oh, from a secret stash that Blair keeps in her cellar." Cliff winked at Fayt as he leaned his mouth close to the ear of the still-sleeping Adray. "WAKE UP, GRIZZLY! BEER'S IN DA HOUSE!"

The word 'beer' jolted Adray awake, bringing him out of dreamland, and he rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Hmm? Did somebody mention alcohol?"

"You bet I did!" Cliff replied gleefully as he popped the cap off of a bottle of vodka and started chugging it down like water.

The next few hours were spent milling about the living room in an alcohol-induced haze, cracking dirty jokes and whispering already-known and even fake 'secrets' in each other's ears in slurred voices, all of which resulted in uproarious laughter. Heck, even Roger had joined in the fun, though he had passed out on the recliner before he had even gone through his second can of beer.

"Soo… Fayt, how are things with Maria?" Cliff slurred from the couch to his blue-haired friend, who was lying down on the floor with an almost-empty bottle of vodka pointing straight down into his mouth.

The bluenette downed the rest of the vodka and tossed the empty bottle aside onto the recliner that Roger had passed out on, the constantly growing pile of empty cans and bottles almost completely covering the little Menodix.

"Same old, Cliff. Same old." Fayt replied as he grabbed his eighth can of beer from the still-large stack of alcoholic drinks on the coffee table and pried it open. "Sometimes I wish I could just take her by the hand, bring her to the nearest bed and…" Fayt's voice trailed off as he immersed himself in a far-away fantasy with the beautiful bluenette. He started to drool, and the can of beer in his hand slipped from his grasp slightly.

Cliff chuckled and plucked the can of beer from the wasted blue-haired boy's grasp before it fell to the floor. _Ah, poor Fayt._ Cliff thought to himself. Though the poor boy didn't know it himself yet, he was head over heels, madly in love with Maria, from what Cliff could tell from Fayt's drunken ramblings.

"I'm going to find her." Fayt suddenly said as he got to his feet unsteadily.

"Huh?" Cliff started. Even though he had downed even more drinks than his blue-haired friend had, Cliff still had _some_ of his wits about him, whereas Fayt's alcoholically untrained mind was completely scrambled by the vast amounts of vodkas and beers he had consumed.

"I said I'm going to find her. I'm going to tell her how much I love **HER!"** Fayt burped out the last word as he thrust out his fist into the air before he lost his balance, teetered forward and landed face-first on the floor.

"Heheh. Go for it, my friend. Best of luck to you." Cliff raised his bottle of vodka in Fayt's direction in a cheer as the bluenette picked himself up and walked forward unsteadily, intent on professing his love to the woman of his dreams.

(A/N: Remember, this is drunken Fayt we're talking about here, he has absolutely no recollection of what he's done after this!)

Pondering over Fayt's actions for a few moments, Cliff grinned to himself, and set down the still-full bottle of vodka onto the coffee table. Plucking himself off the couch, he also set off, leaving Adray to finish off the rest of the alcohol, which the massive Aquarian did so with little difficulty.

Time to go have some fun with Mirage…

(A/N: Ordinarily, we would put in what Cliff would be doing, but due to time constraints, we leave it up to your imagination to decide what Cliff would do.)

* * *

Maria emerged from her room in a fresh set of clothes, her hair, still slightly damp from the shower she had recently taken to wash off the soot from her disastrous episode in the kitchen, was tied up with her red ribbon in a ponytail that hung loosely behind her.

She heard someone coming down the hall to her right, and she glanced in that direction. Fayt was walking unsteadily towards her. From the erratic manner in which he strode forth, and the glazed look in his eyes, Maria could tell that the young man was quite wasted.

"Good evening, Fayt." Maria greeted him, and was about to walk past him when Fayt suddenly thrust out an arm, stopping her.

"Heey, Maria…" Fayt slurred out as he put his arm around Maria's shoulders. "I was hoping to find you."

Attempting to hide her discomfort, Maria sought to dislodge Fayt's arm from around her shoulders, but the young man's arm was like a solid band of steel. It refused to budge.

"Fayt, please, stop whatever you're doing. You're making me blush." Maria pleaded as she tried to pull away from the wasted bluenette, but Fayt's arm kept her from going anywhere.

"I am? Well, that's a good thing…" Fayt murmured. Suddenly, Maria found herself pinned against the wall as Fayt's hands gripped onto her shoulders.

"You know, Maria… I find you really attractive," Fayt whispered in her ear as he moved his body closer to hers, one of his arms slipping around her waist and pulling her towards him, so close that Maria could smell the alcohol in his breath.

"Is that so? Fayt, please release me-" Maria was blushing madly by now and she tried to push Fayt away, but she gasped and halted her efforts at an unexpected contact.

_Oh god, tell me he isn't doing what I feel he's doing…_ Maria thought to herself as her cheeks reddened even further.

Fayt's _hand_ was brushing up against her _thigh_, and it was slowly, steadily moving north… Maria felt a shiver travel up her spine, one that had absolutely nothing to do with fear.

As much as she – oddly enough – wanted this to continue on, Maria knew she had to put a stop to it before it escalated into something beyond her control.

"Fayt, I'm telling you, you'd better stop before I knee you between your le-" Maria never got to finish her sentence as Fayt pressed a finger against her lips.

"Hush, Maria. I want to tell you something." Fayt's lips inched closer to her own.

Maria almost had a panic attack. Part of her mind – her conscious – screamed at her to put an end to this, while another part – her subconscious – begged her to let it continue. She was so caught up in her indecisiveness that she barely caught what Fayt said next.

"Maria, I l-" Suddenly, Fayt's eyes closed and he collapsed forward onto Maria as the amount of alcohol he had in his system took its toll on his body. Passing out on the spot, he slid off Maria's body and onto the floor.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, she picked up Fayt from under the arms and dragged the boy's limp body into her room.

Still standing on shaky knees that quivered with feelings that weren't related to fear at all, she lifted up the unconscious bluenette and dumped him onto her bed, tucking him in.

Fayt curled up beneath the sheets and muttered incoherently to himself in his sleep as Maria collapsed onto a nearby recliner, still breathing quickly from the anxiety she had experienced while Fayt had her pinned against the wall.

Why did she feel so exhilarated when Fayt had her cornered? Why did it feel as though something she had long wished for had finally happened when she had never even thought about it in the first place?

Perhaps she had some secret affection for Fayt Leingod that even she herself did not know about, but she quickly dismissed that notion.

No. She couldn't think that way. To her, Fayt was like the brother she never had. And besides, Fayt had been drunk when he had slurred out his opinion of her being very attractive, so that was just the alcohol talking, right?

As Maria's breathing slowed down and she dozed off in the recliner pondering over these matters, she could not help but feel that there was at least some measure of honesty behind Fayt's words.

* * *

Fayt awoke the next morning with a massive hangover. The moment he opened his eyes to the dim light that filtered through the blinds that covered the windows, a splitting headache struck him, making it seem as though a regiment of Chimeras had somehow found their way inside his head and were currently proceeding to make confetti out of his brain cells.

Groaning, he tossed around in bed. Once the pounding in his head had subsided a little, he opened his eyes a crack and dimly noted the collection of phase guns that decorated the wall…

Wait a minute, phase guns? Fayt momentarily forgot about his hangover as he ran over the facts in his brain. His room didn't have a collection of phase guns on the sidewall, it was supposed to be a collection of his swords! This wasn't his room…

Turning over onto his back, he spied a bluenette sleeping peacefully on the recliner, her hair framing her countenance beautifully as a few strands of it blew across her face. _Holy shit…_ Fayt thought to himself. Of all places to end up hung over, it had to be Maria's room! And sleeping on her bed, even!

Fayt slowly got up and attempted to silently exit the room despite the splitting headache that continued to assail him, but his efforts were in vain. Just as he placed his left foot on the floor, Maria stirred and slowly sat up. Rubbing her eyes sleepily, she noticed Fayt half out of bed.

"Oh, Fayt. You're awake." Maria yawned as she got up from the recliner and stretched.

"Morning, Maria. Sorry to bother you so early…" Fayt said sheepishly.

"Don't worry about it." Maria replied. "Fayt, do you have any recollection of last night?"

"Last night?" Fayt tried to remember, and was rewarded with more pain as his hangover worsened. Fayt doubled over on the bed, clutching at his head.

"Oh, sorry Fayt." Maria moved off to the washroom and returned with quickly returned with a glass of water and some aspirins. "Here, take these."

Fayt gratefully accepted the pills and downed them in single gulp. After a few moments, the pounding in his head subsided to a mild fever delirium, and he was free to move without feeling as though Luther had unleashed Insanity Prelude on his brain with every step he took.

"Thanks, Maria. And… I'm sorry, but I can't remember anything from last night." Fayt looked apologetically at Maria.

True, Fayt's mind drew a complete blank as he tried to play back what had happened after Cliff brought in the drinks, and everything he tried to recall ended up in a blurred haze.

"Oh. I see. Never mind, then." Before Fayt could question Maria on what she meant, she had walked out the door. "You'd better hurry and get ready, though! Blair is going to be picking us up in the afternoon!" She called back as she strode down the hall.

_Oh yeah, _Fayt thought to himself. _This is our last day at Blair's place._

Picking himself off the bed and striding out into the hall, Fayt emerged from Maria's room to the familiar sounds of the morning, one of which being Albel causing a ruckus in his washroom again. "_Goddamn stupid maggot! Out of my way!"_ The shout was followed by the familiar sound of a door being shattered.

* * *

Blair pulled over her BMW next to the gate to her manor, and fished out the remote control to open the gate.

The gates slip open, and Blair drove her car in. Glancing worriedly at her manor, she noted with relief that it seemed still intact. Although, some of the windows seemed to be missing… and there was a hole in the wall where the kitchen was supposed to be…

Blair sighed. It seemed that the party just couldn't keep themselves from screwing up her place…

Parking her BMW in the spacious parking lot, she got out and entered her manor, grimly noting the sounds of wild curses, metal striking metal, and vases breaking.

_That Albel just can't keep himself from destroying everything within reach…_ Blair sighed again as she entered the living room and sat down on the couch, noting the overheated Video Display Unit that smoked on the wall.

A few minutes later, and after Albel had gotten his morning dose of coffee, the party gathered in the living room where Blair was waiting.

* * *

"So Blair, you're finished recreating what Luther had deleted in the Eternal Sphere?" Mirage asked.

"Yes. Me and my team have been working overtime to restore the Milky Way and the other galaxies, but we have managed to pull off a decent job." Blair replied as she took a sip of her own coffee.

"So, what's this new Milky Way like? Is it the same as our old one?" Cliff enquired from his spread-eagled position on the couch.

"Unfortunately, no. Luther managed to erase all the backup data we had for the previous Milky Way, so unfortunately we had to start somewhat from scratch. We managed to jump-start the timeline a bit, but the era is nowhere near the time period of the Pangalactic Federation."

"So, then we're about to enter into Earth's old civilization?" Fayt asked.

"If you mean by the medieval age, no. The time era you're about to enter would be just prior to the coming of the Terran Alliance." Blair answered.

"Just before the Terran Alliance…" Maria said in wonder. "You don't mean… the UNSC, do you?"

"UNSC?" Cliff said with a bewildered expression on his face. "How come I've never heard of it?"

"It's because it's rarely covered in the Pangalactic Federation's historical database." Maria replied. "There are only very short descriptions of this political body, and all I know is that during the time of the UNSC, it was a dark age for humanity. At the time, first contact had been made with an alien race, a hostile one at that, and the UNSC was being fractured from within by rebellions as well."

"I hacked into the Federation's database as far as I could, but I was only able to gather a few scraps of information, all of which were classified. In the ensuing war, humanity was almost wiped out, but only by signing a treaty with an unknown alien race did it manage to survive. From there, the beginnings of the Terran Alliance were born." Maria finished her explanation.

"Huh. So I guess we're about to experience that Dark Age for ourselves." Cliff muttered.

"You could say so." Blair said. "My team is ready to transport you into the Milky Way, should you want to leave now. But I must warn you, our transporters are acting a bit… dodgy this time, perhaps it's the new data that's throwing them off, so you will have to be prepared to land in an unexpected location, though we will try to ensure your safety as far as it is possible."

"All right guys, let's get ready to leave. We're returning to the Milky Way!" Fayt said. Everybody moved off his or her room to pack for the imminent journey.

* * *

"So I guess this is goodbye Bob," said Fayt, "Thanks for everything."

"My pleasure lad," replied Bob, holding back tears.

The party bundled up into Blair's car and sped off out of the gate, heading for Sphere 211. Gosh they were nice people. They were the best guests he had! Well maybe because they were the only guests but there was a first time for everything.

They were wonderful, and took great care of the house too! All that was left was a poisoned water supply, a depleted alcohol stash, a burnt up kitchen, no intact windows left standing, shattered furniture, overheated Video Display Units, smashed vases, dirty bed sheets, muddied floors, broken mirrors…

_Oh boy…I got a lot of work to do…

* * *

_

"Well, here we are." Blair told the group as they stood in front of the massive transporter that would transfer the party back into the recreated Milky Way. "My team and I will get the transporter warmed up. In the meantime, I suggest that you wait inside the transporter."

Blair walked off to the control panel where her team was waiting. A few minutes and a lot of button pressing later, the transporter hummed to life, and a familiar blue glow surrounded each member of the party.

"Thank you so much for all you've for us done Blair." Sophia bowed as the swirling tendrils of blue light surrounded her, transporting her into the Eternal Sphere.

"We won't forget any of this Blair… We owe you one." Fayt said his thanks before he too vanished in a swirl of blue light.

As the rest of the party vanished along with them, Blair closed her eyes. "Farewell. Goodbye, and good luck."

Suddenly, a red warning light flared to life on the control panels of her team.

"Blair! We've got a problem!" One of the researchers cried out. "The transporter is acting dodgy again!"

"Oh no, what is it this time?" Blair hurried over to the distressed researcher's station.

"It's the new data! The transporter system has trouble adjusting to the sudden changes and additions, that it switched the transporting coordinates!" The researcher scanned the numbers that scrolled across the screen in front of him, and his eyes widened in shock. "Blair, they're going to land right in the middle of the Covenant Empire!"

Blair shook her head and sighed in frustration. "There's nothing we can do for them now. All we can do is hope that they're ready to be a bunch of unwelcome guests. The Covenant won't take this intrusion lightly…"

* * *

Well, there's the 2nd chapter for you. We already have the 3rd chapter ready, so we'll posting it once this story hits the 2nd page…

Review, review, review, review. Click on the button, free plasma grenades!


	3. Unwelcome Guests

Disclaimer: Chief: Lalalalala, I won't say it! Lalalalalalal-_Master knocks out Chief_. Master: We don't own SO3, or anything we ripped off, either blatantly or subtlely. So don't try to sue us.

* * *

Author's Note: Ok, the break is over. Now let's get back to the action! Fayt and Co. have landed smack dab in the middle of the Covenant Empire (the bad guys), and now they'll have to escape! 

Author's Note 2: Damn, I just realised I made a major error with the timeline! The Terran Alliance was formed in 2098 A.D, whereas the UNSC was still existent up till 2552 A.D and even later. Ok, just take it that the new eternal sphere data is progressing slower than it is expected to be, hence the development of the UNSC into the Terran Alliance has been delayed, occurring after 2552 instead of 2098.

Pairings Note: My deepest apologies to NelZelpher88, for the AlbelxNel pairing in this story was meant to be a side pairing, as the story focuses more on FaytxMaria. Of course, I will still try my best to include the AlNel pairing as much as possible, but I'm not used to writing about those two...

* * *

Chapter 2: Unwelcome Guests

"Unh!"

"Whoa!"

"Aaaah!"

**CRASH**!

"Ugh…"

Fayt shook his head to clear his vision of the stars that were dotting it, and tried to get up. Unfortunately, he was unable to due to the massive weight that was perched on his back. A familiar voice moaned from behind him, and he turned around as best he could, given his current position.

Maria shifted from her position on top of Fayt and also tried to get to her feet, but due to the combined weight of 8 other people resting on her back, she wasn't able to move much.

Cliff, who was in the middle of the human mound, shifted a bit and groaned, "Does the landing have to be so damn rough?"

"Get off of me, worms…" Albel growled from below Nel, who squirmed uncomfortably at her close contact with the Glyphian's body.

Fayt tried to pull himself out from under the tangled pile of bodies, but he just didn't have the strength. "Guys… get off me. You're heavy…"

Peppita, who was perched at the top of the pile, stirred and got up. "Hmm? Oh, Fayt!" She quickly jumped off Roger, who in turn leapt off Sophia. Nel rolled off of Albel's back once Sophia had gotten off her, and Mirage was free to move once Albel had dashed well and away from the tangled heap of limbs. Adray grunted and moved off the pile once Mirage had gotten off his back, and Cliff immediately got to his feet once his back was free of the weight of a grizzly bear, leaving a crumpled Maria lying on top of a rather squashed Fayt.

Maria had just come to realize what a compromising position she was in with Fayt, and her face practically started blazing when her mind started to wander off to places it was better off not visiting at all. She was on her feet in a flash, and desperately attempted to hide her blush by turning slightly away from the group.

Fayt, completely oblivious to Maria's reaction, quickly picked himself up and started rubbing his sore back in an attempt to relieve the aches.

"So where are we, anyway?" Roger asked.

No one had the answer to that question, as nobody even knew where 'here' was. Looking around, the party realized that they were in a very large chamber that was shaped vaguely like a garden. It would have seemed like a perfectly normal garden, if not for the unnatural-looking vegetation that grew out of the soil, as well as the purple-colored architecture that blended in perfectly with the vegetation, almost seeming part of it. The room they were in wasn't open-aired; there was a huge purple-tinged glass dome that served as a roof covering the top.

Fayt walked over to one of the purple-colored walls and inspected it closely. "This wall isn't just metal or concrete." He stated, "Whatever produced this metal has technology equivalent to that of the Pangalactic Federation. If we're seen by whatever that lives here, something tells me we'll be in big trouble."

"Agreed. Everyone split up and look for an exit." Maria said.

* * *

Roger was looking closely at an oddly decorated section of the wall. The outline of it was shaped strangely like a portal, and there were many blinking lights. Noticing a shape that looked like what Fayt called a 'Control Panel', Roger reached out and touched one of the lights that were blinking on the panel. 

Immediately, there was a faint rush of wind, and the oddly decorated section of wall split itself in two and rushed into the other parts of the wall next to it.

"Hey guys! I found a door!" Immediately, everyone rushed over to where Roger was standing.

"Far out…" Roger muttered as they stared down the seemingly endless passageway. The corridor was well lit, and there were dozens of doors that intermittently dotted the walls of the corridor.

"What is this place?" Sophia asked, completely bowled over by the utter alien ness of this place. Even the bizarre interiors of the Vendeeni ships she was held captive in didn't surprise her as much as this.

"Well, the only way we're gonna know for sure is to go down that corridor and find out." Maria replied before setting down the corridor.

Everyone looked at their leader for directions, and Fayt shrugged. "It's not like we have anywhere else to go, anyway. Let's follow her."

* * *

The first door that Maria opened didn't reveal much, just a chamber that seemed to be some kind of quarters, though the 'beds' didn't seem shaped for human-shaped life forms, and the chair didn't seem to be designed to support a human's backbone. 

In short, Maria didn't think that humans live in wherever-they-were. The next door she opened revealed a large, spacious room with several racks lining the walls. Most of the racks were empty, but a few were occupied by rows of claw-like devices that glowed either blue or green from the inside. They looked a lot like weapons, but Maria didn't intend to find out by grabbing one of them. Who knew what kind of security mechanisms this place had…

Unfortunately, Roger didn't have Maria's sense of caution, and he reached out to touch one of the devices. Maria, who was leaving with the group through the door, noticed Roger's absence in the party and looked back into the 'armory'.

The sight of Roger with his hand holding one of the devices and about to lift it off the rack was more than enough to send Maria lunging forward, ready to tackle Roger to the ground just to get him away from the rack of devices.

Too late. Before Maria even reached Roger, he had already lifted the device off and away from the rack.

Immediately, a high-pitched warning tone issued from the walls of the chamber.

"**ROGER**!"

"I didn't do it!"

Albel had the little Menodix up in the air, holding him by the scruff of his collar. "You just screwed us up big time, little maggot." Albel growled.

"Albel, enough!" Nel snapped at him. Albel glared resentfully at Nel before he reluctantly dropped the cowering Menodix to the ground. Roger immediately scurried away from Albel the moment he hit the ground. (A/N: Well... I don't know if this really qualifies, but it does hint at AlbelxNel since if anybody else other than Nel had told Albel to drop the little runt, he would have sliced Roger up into little pieces instead.)

"Get ready guys. I think we're about to have some company." Maria stated as she trained her pulse gun on the doorway.

The party immediately took up defensive positions inside the room. Fayt and Albel planted themselves on either side of the door, backed up by Cliff, Mirage, Nel and Adray, ready to eviscerate anything that passed through. Sophia positioned herself on the other side of the room next to Maria, her weapon trained on the doorway. Roger and Peppita were busy hiding behind Maria and Sophia.

And they waited. And waited. And nothing came.

"Maybe it wasn't an alarm after all." Roger piped up.

The moment he said that, the doors slid open, and an alien creature stepped inside.

It stood a meter and a half tall, a biped. Its knobby, scaled skin was a sickly, mottled yellow; purple and yellow fins ran along the crest of its skull and its forearms. Glittering, bulbous eyes protruded from skull-like hollows in the creature's elongated head.

Perhaps it was the creature's sudden entry; or perhaps it was the creature's appearance that shocked the party so much; viscous and unclean like a carrion bird. But whatever the reason was, the party was caught off guard and stunned for a moment.

The alien also stood there, frozen for a moment – staring at the human interlopers. Then it screeched and reached for something on its belt, its movements darting and birdlike.

It never got a chance to draw whatever served as its weapon. Cliff and Mirage pounced from behind the creature, tackling it to the ground. Fayt, Albel and Adray immediately followed-up the attack by driving their blades through the creature's back. The alien screeched in pain and struggled to release itself from the firm holds the two Klausians had it in, but it wasn't able to. A bolt of energy from Sophia and a pinpoint shot from Maria's blaster slammed into its head and ended its life. Thick blood oozed from the open wounds in the creature's head and on its back.

"That was easy," Fayt remarked. He nudged the creature with his boot. "They sure aren't as tough as the Vendeeni or the Aldians."

"Let's hope it stays that way," Nel replied.

Maria pulled out her quad scanner and took a moment to run a quick scanning diagnostic. "I'm getting a radiation reading this way," she said. She stepped out of the armory and gestured deeper into the construct.

The party continued down the corridor and took a side branch. They stopped at another set of doors. Roger punched the same button he had punched before and the doors slid apart.

Another of the creatures was there. It stood in a circular room with crystalline control panels and a large window. This time, however, the vulture-headed creature didn't scream or look particularly surprised.

This one looked angry.

The creature held another one of those claw-like devices in its hand – leveled at Fayt.

Maria, Adray and Sophia fired. Pulse blasts and energy bolts filled the air and splashed against a shimmering barrier in front of the creature.

A bolt of green heat blasted from the claw. The blast seemed similar to some form of plasma, and right now it seemed to be very destructive.

Cliff dove forward and knocked Fayt out of the blast's path; the energy burst caught Cliff in the side. The reflective coating of his customized Ablative Armor flared, and he fell, clutching his side.

Maria flicked her pulse gun to 'full-auto' and sprayed pulse fire at the creature. The blasts peppered the alien – each one splashed against and dissipated over the energy shield.

Maria glanced at her ammo counter on her pulse gun – half gone.

_If someone doesn't take this thing out quick, it's going to kill us one by one. _She thought.

The alien kept up a stream of answering fire – energy blasts hammered into Cliff, who fell to the deck, unable to defend himself.

Albel immediately sent forth an Air Slash that slammed into the creature's shield and knocked it out of line. Fayt saw his chance. While the alien was still trying to recover its balance, Fayt instantly warped behind the alien with Dimension Door and sliced its head clean off.

The vulture-like head parted from the creature's shoulders and spattered the floor with blood and bits of neck bone.

Mirage quickly helped Cliff up to his feet.

"I'm okay," Cliff said, holding his side and grimacing. "Just a little singed." The reflective coating on his ablative armor was blackened.

"You sure?" Mirage asked concernedly. Cliff tried to wave her away, but Mirage pulled his hand away from his side. There was a hole the size of a fist in Cliff's ablative armor, and beneath that, the skin was blackened and cracked. Cliff smiled, but his teeth gritted in pain.

"That's nothing." Mirage said. "I'll get you patched up in no time." She quickly pulled a first aid kit out of her pack and started tending to Cliff's wound.

Meanwhile, Fayt paused over the headless body of the alien. He spotted a glint of metal, an armguard, and he picked it up. He tapped one of the three buttons on the device, but nothing happened. He strapped it to his forearm. It might come in useful sometime.

Once Mirage had finished bandaging Cliff's side, the party entered the room. The large window was a half-meter thick. It overlooked a large chamber that descended three stories. A cylinder ran the length of the chamber and red light pulsed along its length, like a liquid sloshing back and forth. Under the window, on their side, rested a smooth angled surface – perhaps a control panel? On its surface were tiny symbols: glowing green dots, bars and squares.

"That's got to be the source of the radiation," Maria said, and pointed to the chamber beyond. "Maybe a reactor, or a weapons system of some kind… I think we're aboard some kind of ship."

Another alien marched near the cylinder and spotted the group. Instantly, a silver shimmer appeared around it. It screeched and wobbled in alarm, then scrambled for cover.

"Trouble," Albel said. "Let's move!"

The party darted out of the room and took a right turn once they reached the corridor that they came from, continuing on at full speed.

After few seconds of sprinting down the corridor another one of the doors opened, and out stepped a completely different looking alien. At first they mistook it for some kind of huge monkey, as it had its back turned towards them, but as the being turned around, they quickly dismissed that notion.

It sure as hell wasn't the same species as the bird-like alien they saw previously – this one vied with Adray in musculature and was over seven feet tall. It wore shoulder plates, a bandolier over its barrel-chested midsection and had a curved, shiny metal helmet covering its head. Its mouth was lined with razor-sharp teeth, and its red eyes burned with hate as it saw the party. It's blue-gray skin looked leathery and extremely tough.

The new alien grunted in surprise as Cliff, who was closest to it, lunged forth, about to deliver a quick punch to knock its lights out.

Unfortunately, this alien was even faster than the other one. In a flash, it's right arm blurred upwards and it caught Cliff's fist just as it was about to impact with its face.

Then, it slowly started to force Cliff's fist backwards.

Evidently, this was a contest of strength. The strain was evident on Cliff's countenance as he struggled to keep his fist from being forced too far back. Desperate for an advantage, he threw his other fist forth, but the alien caught it and forced it back as well.

The alien was even stronger than the Klausian. Cliff knew he was fighting a losing battle, so he pulled his fists back and attempted to dodge backwards, but he never got the chance to.

The moment he pulled away from the alien, it kicked him in the midsection. His armor took the brunt of the attack, but the blow had enough force behind it to send him flying backwards and into the party.

Maria quickly dodged out of the way as Cliff came flying towards the party, and now that she had a clear line of fire, she had the alien's head in her gun sights in an instant. This target didn't seem to have any kind of energy shield: an easy kill.

Pulling the trigger, her pulse gun kicked back against her hand as the bolt of energy flew forth from the weapon's barrel. The bolt impacted dead center on the creature's forehead, and the helmet was blown clean off. There was an evident heat burn on the creature's face, but it hardly seemed fazed by the wound.

Ok, perhaps not an easy kill…

It howled in anger and leapt towards Maria. Knowing that the alien was stronger than Cliff, and that to let that alien up close would be a fatal mistake, Maria instantly dodged backwards, barely avoiding the massive alien's body slam. Cliff, who had recovered from the alien's blow to his midsection, sprang onto the alien's back and tackled it to the ground.

Once on the alien's back, he scissored his legs wide and pushed against the floor, leveraging his body to keep the massive alien pinned. He grabbed onto the thing's wrist and pulled it backwards as far as he could. The creature's elbow joint was pulled back, far beyond the point where a human's elbow joint would have snapped. The alien, hardly seeming as though its elbow joint had just snapped, growled and attempted to push itself and Cliff up with its one free arm.

"No. You. Don't." Cliff grabbed an EM bomb from his belt, flicked the arming pin – reached around and under, and thrust it into the creature's belt – then withdrew, sweeping out its one arm holding them up.

The alien dropped to the floor and screamed with rage.

Sensing the coming explosion, the party swiftly withdrew from the two combatants.

The EM bomb detonated, and lifted both combatants a meter into the air, and they landed again… this time accompanied by a wet, pulpy smack as the creature's dead hulk slammed into the ground. Cliff got off the alien's corpse and dusted himself off.

"Man, that thing is _strong_!" Cliff said sourly as he rubbed his sore knuckles.

"Just be grateful it didn't crush your fists, fool." Albel muttered as he pushed past Cliff and continued running down the corridor, taking a left turn the moment he came to a side branch. The party followed suit, and soon enough they could hear the familiar sounds of booted feet impacting against a floor. Seems that they'd finally caught some attention.

"We've got company!" Mirage announced. "On our six!"

"I'll handle that." Sophia said. Immediately, she started murmuring symbol invocations, inclining her wand towards the turn in the corridor that was a few meters behind them. Just as the first few of the pursuers turned around the corner, Sophia shouted out "Deep Freeze!"

A large block of ice materialized at the turn, trapping the aliens that were already turning the corner, and blocking off those that were behind.

"Let's go, that won't hold them off for long." Fayt quickly led the party down the corridor, which started to slope upwards. At the end of the passageway, they came to another set of doors. Roger rushed forward and stabbed the controls at random; the doors slid open after about fifteen button presses.

The party quickly dashed through the doorway, and Maria sealed the door behind them, frying the control panel with a point blank shot from her blaster. "That'll keep them busy for a while," She said. "Let's get going."

Fayt nodded and was about to continue on when he finally noticed what a huge chamber they were in.

The party was standing on a walkway that ran across a huge chamber that seemed to function as a hangar, given the many bulbous-shaped objects that looked like aircraft. Some of them were large enough to carry quite a number of people; others were much smaller and looked to be designed for one person only.

At one end of the chamber, there was a huge silvery shimmering barrier that encompassed the entirety of the wall… or where a wall was supposed to be. Past the barrier, the group could see the inky blackness of space, covered with the tiny pinpricks of white that were stars.

Cliff let out a long, low whistle.

Fayt grinned. "This could be a lucky break," he said. "This place seems to be some kind of hangar. We might be able to escape from here."

The party started down the walkway, but when they were only halfway across, a loud explosion rocked the walkway, knocking everyone off-balance. Fayt glanced over the railing of the walkway, and he noticed several of the aliens he had seen earlier – both types – crowding on the lower levels. They all had their weapons trained on the party, but only a few were taking potshots at them.

Fayt noticed that one of the brutish-looking aliens hefted a large, wide-muzzled device on its shoulder. The Brute aimed the device at the walkway again, and fired.

The device spat out a large, green oval-shaped discharge. Fayt was certain that it was anything but plasma, and that it might be pretty damn explosive.

"Everyone get down!" He yelled out before throwing himself forward onto the floor. Sophia, Cliff, Adray and Peppita did likewise, whereas Maria, Albel, Nel, Mirage and Roger leapt backwards.

The empty space on the walkway that the party had just vacated vanished in a green blast of radioactive energy, and soon there was none of that section of walkway left.

Knowing that they were sitting ducks if they stayed where they were, the two groups immediately scurried in opposite directions.

* * *

Fayt's group clambered into the open hatch of the nearest large bulbous craft, and Cliff slammed the hatch closed once all of them were through. Dumping himself into the pilot's seat and strapping himself in, Cliff stared in bewilderment at the alien controls before him. 

_Come on, think, Fittir, think…there must be a way out of this mess! _Cliff didn't see any other solution to his current dilemma, so he did the first thing that came to mind.

He pushed several buttons at random, according to what his latest and most recent hunch told him.

The first button he pushed was a large one that was at the center of the panel; the lights inside the interior of the alien craft flickered on, and the engines hummed to life.

"Uhh… Cliff? Do you know what you're doing?" Fayt asked nervously as he strapped himself into the co-pilot's seat next to Cliff.

"Relax, kid. My hunches are telling me what to do. Trust me." Cliff replied with a rather fake-sounding laugh.

In truth, the Klausian was terrified. What if he accidentally pressed the wrong button and activated the self-destruct sequence? Praying that his hunches wouldn't fail him, he continued to punch buttons and flick switches at random.

The latest button he pressed brought up a video display of the hangar outside, and a few symbols appeared on the display.

Grasping onto what seemed to be the control joystick, Cliff moved the symbols over to the nearest alien that was still taking potshots at their craft, and pulled the trigger.

A series of red-white energy blasts issued forth from the five cannon systems that were attached to their craft; the alien disappeared in a flash of light, and soon there was nothing more to mark its passing than a pile of charred ashes.

"Not a bad shot." Fayt remarked as he watched Cliff move the symbols over the enemies in the hangar, gunning them down mercilessly.

However, the doors of the lower levels opened, and in flooded even more of the aliens.

"Uh oh. I think we've bitten off more than we can chew." Cliff muttered as more of the large, wide-muzzled devices were brought in and aimed at their craft.

"Get us out of here, Cliff." Fayt said.

Cliff quickly yanked the control stick to the right and pushed the throttle to maximum.

Before the aliens could open fire on their stolen ship, it had already turned tail and fled out of the hangar.

* * *

On the other hand, Maria's group was having problems of its own. Pinned down behind a group of pillars, they could do little but hide behind the narrow pieces of architecture as plasma fire intermittently splashed against the pillars. 

"So, maggot, got any bright ideas to get us out of this mess?" Albel growled next to Maria.

"Yes. Why don't you go out there and draw their fire while the rest of us escape?" Maria replied sarcastically as she leaned out from behind the pillar for a split-second and took a quick shot at one of the vulture-aliens.

The unfortunate alien hadn't put up its energy shield, and the pulse shot impacted against its side and knocked it off-balance. The alien had made the poor choice of positioning itself close to the edge of the balcony it was perched on, and it fell forward, off the balcony and to a messy death on the hangar floor, screeching all the way.

"Bah. As if I would be foolish enough to let them take potshots at me while I can do nothing to fight back." Albel sneered back at her.

Suddenly, several of the aliens were cut down in a barrage of red-white plasma blasts. Maria stepped out from behind the pillar to check out what was going on, and noticed the large, bulbous craft that was unleashing a hellish wave of plasma-based destruction on the whatever aliens were still in the hangar.

_All right! Cliff!_ Maria silently thanked the Klausian as she quickly signaled her group to follow her into the nearest craft before more aliens flooded into the hangar.

Just as the next wave charged through into the hangar, Maria and Mirage had the craft powered up and ready for flight.

They exited a few moments after Cliff's ship had fled, but they were slow enough to allow some of the aliens to take potshots at their craft with some of their shoulder cannons. Radioactive ammunition impacted against the hull of Maria's stolen craft, but they did little more than scratch the paint.

In a flash, both ships containing the human interlopers were out of the hangar.

* * *

Cliff thoughts they were out of the woods once they had cleared the hangar, but his hopes were dashed the moment the radar screen in front of him pinged multiple incoming contacts. 

"We've got incoming! Brace yourselves!" He shouted to the group back in the passenger compartment as he immediately began evasive maneuvers.

Nobody had buckled himself or herself to a seat, so they grabbed a hold of the bulkhead, bracing him or herself.

Adray was hardly fazed by the rocky movements that managed to throw the rest of the passengers around like ingredients in a blender. Peppita slammed into the bulkhead above before she impacted against the sidewall and slid to the floor. Sophia was thrown off her feet and landed hard on her rump as their stolen ship turned sharply upwards.

Fayt doubled over in his seat and held a hand to his mouth. "I think I'm gonna be sick…" He muttered, his face already turning green.

"Hang in there, kid!" Cliff said to him as he pushed the ship into another sharp right turn, narrowly avoiding a stream of plasma cannon shots.

Cliff usually wasn't one to panic in a hectic situation, but this was _way _too unbelievable. How the hell was he supposed to escape if he barely knew how to fly this ship?

He banged his fist on the console in frustration, his fist depressing one particular button.

By some fluke of nature, Cliff's seemingly random action saved the lives of the entire group.

There was a strange beeping sound, and a synthetic alien voice warbled out some incomprehensible speech they couldn't understand.

(Translation: Slipspace drive engaged. Input coordinates: Sol system. Destination: Earth)

(A/N: Slipspace is kinda like Gravitic Warp Space)

Instantly, the starry void of space, along with the pursuing craft, vanished, replaced by an inky blackness.

Outside, their stolen ship accelerated in a sudden burst. Pinpoints of light appeared around their craft that elongated and smeared. Their ship vanished from sight.

* * *

"What the… how did they do that?" Maria exclaimed as she watched Cliff's ship vanish from sight. 

"I think they made some kind of transition. Maybe they're in this universe's version of Gravitic Warp Space," Mirage replied. "We'd better try and do the same thing." The ship rocked as several plasma cannon shots slammed into the hull.

"And quickly!" she added as her eyes frantically scanned the controls in front of her, searching for anything that resembled the controls for a Gravitic Warp Drive. She spotted a likely looking panel, and quickly punched the buttons.

Instead of accelerating, their ship grinded to a complete halt. More plasma blasts slammed into their craft, scorching the hull and raising the internal temperature a few degrees.

"Damn it, Mirage, you just pulled the handbrake!" Maria huffed as she reached over a pressed the buttons again. Their ship rocked again as it rapidly accelerated, and they dodged out of the way of the next salvo of plasma bursts.

"Let me try." Maria swatted Mirage's hand from the panel just as she as about to press another button.

Maria quickly scanned the panel in front of her and pushed another likely looking button.

This time, the lights inside the ship flicked out, and the high-pitched whine of their engines died out. The ship started to drift, silent and powered down in space.

"Don't say a word." Maria muttered threateningly as Mirage struggled to keep herself from falling into a fit of hysterics. Maria quickly pushed the button again, and the ship powered back up.

Nel believed that Maria would probably end up pressing the self-destruct button instead of activating the Gravitic Warp Drive, so she decided to take matters into her own hands.

"Stand aside, you two. I'll give this a shot." Both Maria and Mirage were taken aback as Nel stepped forward, her hands hovering over the controls. Closing her eyes and picking out a button at random, Nel pushed her finger down on the button.

A beeping sound issued from the 'speakers' of the ship, and an alien voice warbled out several indistinguishable sounds that made absolutely no sense to them. It sounded slightly different than the announcement that Fayt's group had heard, though.

(Translation: Slipspace Drive Engaged. Input coordinates: Classified. Destination: Delta Halo)

The pursuing craft behind them unleashed another hellish wave of plasma, intent on demolishing the final stolen ship, but before the plasma shots could reach their target, light boiled around the stolen craft, and it winked out of sight.

* * *

Fayt had plenty of time to think during their journey to wherever-they-were-headed. The rest of the group had turned in for the 'night', and three were fast asleep on the deck of the craft, since none of the crash seats in the craft's passenger compartment were designed to support a human backbone. 

Cliff had dozed off in the pilot's seat, while Sophia and Peppita were sound asleep, curled up on the deck. Adray sat up against a wall; his head lolled to the side and snoring like a bear.

And so that left Fayt to his own devices. Were Maria and the others able to escape as well? Fayt knew that they had deserted them when they took off in their own ship, but he was certain they had managed to find a ship of their own.

Still, what if they hadn't been able to escape from their pursuers like his group had? The probability was low… but Fayt knew that Maria was a survivor.

And as he continued to ponder over what had happened to the others, more and more often he found his thoughts wandering back to a certain subject/person, named 'Maria'.

Fayt shook his head, wondering why was he thinking so much about the beautiful bluenette. Yeah, sure, he was concerned about her welfare and all like a leader and comrade should be, but wasn't he supposed to feel the same way for his entire team?

Fayt tried to put a stop to those kinds of thoughts, but the subconscious part of his mind proved to be stronger than the conscious part. As his consciousness fought to expel any and all images of Maria from Fayt's mind, the subconscious continued to spam unwelcome thoughts, especially the kind that focused on some of Maria's more… physical attributes.

An image suddenly came unbidden to his mind...

_Fayt had Maria pinned against the wall, his arm encircled around her waist as he whispered something into her ear…_

**_Damn it, Fayt, snap out of it!_** He mentally slapped himself. What a time to be fantasizing about Maria!

Deciding that sleep was the best escape from such thoughts, Fayt closed his eyes and let his head roll back onto the headrest. The last thought he had before dozing off was a brief flashback of what Cliff had once said to him. "The last thing I wanna see is us losing because you didn't get enough sleep."

And Fayt slept, his dreams riddled with images of Maria…

* * *

Unbeknownst to Fayt, what he 'fantasized' about had actually happened. As Maria unbuckled herself from the copilot's seat and moved back into the passenger compartment where Nel, Albel and Roger had bunked up in, her mind once again started to replay the events that had happened in the Manor de Blair. 

"Was it _really_ just the alcohol making him do that? Or was he actually trying to tell me something through that drunken haze?" Maria thought to herself as she sat down onto the floor.

His last sentence did get cut off, after all, since he had passed out. Maria wondered what it was that he was really trying to tell her, and she believed she had a hint of what he meant.

"Him? _Love _me? Even _like _me? Hah, not a chance. He probably sees me as only a surrogate sister. Besides, he's got Sophia already, why would he need me? Fayt could never love me…" Maria thought bitterly as a few tears threatened to escape from her eyes…

"Wait a minute… tears? Oh no, I _can't_ be so infatuated with him..." But try as she might to deny it, Maria could not push away the facts brought about by her recent revelation.

She was in _love_ with Fayt Leingod. A Fayt Leingod that probably didn't feel the same way about her.

It amazed Maria that she had kept such a fact hidden from herself for such a long time, as she realized that she had fallen in love with him not just a few days, or even weeks ago, but ever since she had first met him on Elicoor II. Of course, she hadn't been aware of her feelings when she first met him in castle Aquaria, so she treated him like any other member of the group.

But, as she reflected over her actions as time had passed, she realized that her emotions were slowly and steadily revealing themselves during the course of the party's journey.

Maria realized that throughout all this time, she had been in denial. Sure, as the saying goes, ignorance is bliss. As far as she could recall, she had never felt like this when she didn't acknowledge her feelings for Fayt.

Maria couldn't bear to keep her mind on such matters any more, just thinking about Fayt and the unacceptably high probability that he would never love her made it feel as though a hole had been ripped through her heart.

Deciding that sleep was the best escape from such thoughts, she laid herself down onto the space on the deck next to Nel, closing her eyes. Within a few scant moments, she was fast asleep.

Tears leaked out from under her tightly shut eyelids as her dreams were plagued by nightmares of rejection.

* * *

A/N: You'll have to bear with me if the romance scenes seem a bit third-rate, but I'm just not used to writing this kind of stuff… This story is my first attempt, you know. 

Well, there you have it. The party got split up, but they've escaped. Fayt's group is heading to Earth to meet up with the Master Chief, while Maria's group will meet up with the Arbiter at the Delta Halo.

For those of you who don't know much about Halo, don't worry. You're just about as lost as Fayt and the rest are. So essentially, you'll learn more about the Halo universe along with them.

This is the Chief, signing out.


	4. The First Trigger

Disclaimer: Master: We are getting aggravated… Chief: Yes we are…

* * *

A/N: Updating will slow down here, our school has reopened, and we'll have a lot less free time on our hands… And to alert ShikaRoX-LOL, this story will contain PLENTY of _necessary_ OC's, but no pairings with them. Why are the OC's necessary? Simple: There are plenty of people in the military, and only very few were made main characters by Bungie in Halo, so with so few memorable characters, we have to create some of our own, you can't possibly always stick with the same person time and time again in the military, can you? This is a war, and people will die sooner or later. Hence, the need for OC's that can be killed off but play a part in the story anyway. 

A/N 2: This pretty long, action-packed chapter will focus on Fayt's group; Maria's group will come in the next chapter.

A/N 3: I'm getting Fayt to pull off a Cloud Strife here, he'll have a multi-holster on his back instead of a single holster, and he'll be wielding up to two swords at a time, with the Levantine, Divine Avenger, Veinslay, Mythril Sword and Silvance in his multi-holster, and a Laser Weapon in his pocket. Total of six swords.

A/N 4: Another change I'm making for Fayt, I'm giving him a new outfit for this fic. He'll be wearing something like Riku's KH2 outfit, but the color basis will take after that of Sora's KH2 outfit. Also, there'll be a little surprise in this chapter concerning Fayt's Destruction power, you'll see!

* * *

Chapter 3: The First Trigger

A sudden deceleration jolted Fayt awake, and his eyes shot open just as the inky blackness gave way to conventional space. The rest of the group was already on their feet, and Cliff was wide-awake in the pilot's seat, his hands gripping onto the control yoke firmly.

"Oh my god…" Sophia whispered in horror as she stared at the image the display provided.

"No… not again… this can't be happening…" Fayt's hands clutched onto the armrest of his seat in a white-knuckled grip.

"Oh, Maria was right when she said 'Dark Age', all right." Cliff muttered.

Fayt and Sophia stared ahead as a familiar-looking blue-and-white sphere was being set aflame by alien craft, with blazing plasma bolts raining down hellish fire upon sections of their home planet.

The sight reminded them all too well of the Executioners destroying Earth.

Several purple craft that looked like humongous versions of the one they had stolen were in orbit around Earth locked in combat with numerous human vessels. The human forces were obviously fighting a losing battle, though they had the advantage of superior numbers. A colossal, silver ship led the attack against Earth; it's weapons cutting a swathe of destruction through the human fleet.

The COM channel on their ship was open to all frequencies, and they were bombarded with COM messages from all over the area. A plethora of voices, both human and alien, flooded the Com channel, shouting orders here and there. One particular message caught Fayt's attention. Listening in closely and trying to discern out the meaning of the message, he was taken by surprise as a flight of human one-man fighters took a strafing run at their craft. The hull of the ship rocked as the multiple cannon rounds impacted against and dented their armor.

"Hey, what the - Cliff! Open a COM channel and tell them we're friendlies!" Fayt cried out.

"Err… How do you open a COM channel with this thing? … Ah! Got it!" Cliff keyed a likely looking button.

"This is the pilot of this stolen craft! Do not fire upon us! We are human, and we are friendlies!" Cliff spoke into the COM before keying it off.

"Identify yourself!" A harsh voice shot back, the message distorted by static.

"This is Cliff Fittir. I have a group of my companions with me. Do not fire upon this ship! It is under human control!" Cliff responded.

"Who are you? You're not from the UNSC's military… how do I know you're not Covenant?" The voice replied again.

"Covenant? So that's what they call those aliens…" Fayt muttered as Cliff explained to the person on the other end of the COM who they were.

"We're uhh… civilians! We've managed to escape from the Covenant and we were hoping you guys could help us!" Cliff made up a quick excuse to cover up.

"Civilians! How in the hell did you civvies manage to capture a Covenant ship?" The voice exclaimed.

"We'll explain later, just get us the hell out of here!" Cliff replied.

* * *

Captain Harland didn't trust the words of this 'Cliff Fittir' one bit. He claimed that they were civilians that had managed to steal a Phantom and escape from the Covenant, but here's the trick. 

Just how in the hell did they _manage_ to escape in the first place? Covenant didn't take any prisoners, save the occasional straggler to execute for sport. If they were taken prisoner by the Covenant, then how the hell could they be still alive?

Something was seriously amiss here.

"Ok, we'll take you in. Follow these coordinates." He uploaded a NAV point into the stolen Phantom's NAV computer.

"This is Bravo Flight Leader to Cairo Platform, repeat, Bravo Flight Leader to Cairo Platform. We have an incoming Covenant Phantom, claims to be containing friendly humans. Allow the Phantom to dock, but keep a reaction force ready. It could be a decoy. Covenant might be trying to Trojan Horse their way in. Our ETA is… two minutes." Harland sent the message to the Cairo Orbital MAC Gun Platform.

"Roger that. Reaction force will be ready in one minute." The platform's system AI responded curtly.

"Copy that. Over and out." Harland keyed off the COM and watched the Covenant Phantom streak towards the Cairo's docking bay.

Despite his initial suspicion, something told him that this arrival could very well turn the tide of battle in their favor. He couldn't really tell what gave him this feeling, but he knew that somehow, the human race would win this battle, and live to fight another day.

* * *

The hatch of their stolen craft sprung open, and Fayt's group leapt out, only to be confronted by an array of weapon barrels. 

A full platoon of uniformed men dressed in combat armor surrounded the hatch of their stolen craft; their weapons trained on the group, ready to fire should they be deemed a threat.

"Whoa." Cliff muttered. "If I knew we were coming down here for target practice, I would've painted a bullseye on my chest."

"Uhh… Don't shoot!" Fayt tried out. "We're not one of them!"

The men lowered their weapons slightly, but they kept their guard up.

"Who are you people? You're not from the military…" One of the men spoke up. His rank indicated that he was a Staff Sergeant, probably the guy in charge.

"We're uhh… civilians! Well, kind of like civilians…" Cliff said lamely as he nervously scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable at being the target of over fifteen gun barrels at once.

"Yeah, right. And I'm supposed to believe that?" The sergeant replied abruptly, looking over the band of misfits.

This was one helluva refugee group, if they were even refugees. Two of the men in the group were rather big, lots of muscle. One of them was blonde and seemed to be in his mid-thirties, the other, larger one had graying hair, didn't wear a shirt over his bare tattooed upper body, and seemed to be in his late fifties. The last male in the group was a blue-haired teenager, a boy. If one thing was out of place with this kid, it was that he had a butt load of swords strapped to his back. Seemed to be in his late teens, looked like hitting his twenties soon. The other two were girls. Not women, but _girls,_ as in, small little-sister kind of girl. The older-looking one of them, the brunette, was definitely a teenager as well. The last one, the short, silvery-haired one, sure as hell was a little kid all right.

"Please, you have to believe us! We aren't soldiers like you, but we're not really civilians either… And we're definitely not one of those Covenant!" Sophia came forward, boldly planting herself right in the gun sights of the platoon.

"Well, whaddya know! The girl's got guts, steppin' up in front of a gun like that." Another one of the men commented.

"Shut the hell up, Corporal." The sergeant shouted at the soldier, who promptly shut his mouth.

"Yes sir, sergeant." The corporal, whose nametag read 'N. A. Parker', muttered.

"Well… I don't think you guys are with the Covenant. We'll have to take you in for questioning, though." The sergeant stated after thinking for a few moments. The soldiers immediately holstered their weapons and dispersed.

The party immediately let out a collective sigh of relief. The sergeant came forth and introduced himself. "I'm Staff Sergeant Baxter. Come with me, the briefing room is this way."

* * *

"So you're saying that you guys escaped from a Covenant vessel and somehow managed to arrive here through Slipspace?" Baxter's eyebrows were raised so high that they almost came into contact with his crew cut. 

"That's pretty much the story." Cliff replied.

The party had gathered in the briefing room, and was currently being questioned by Baxter and two other officers, who had introduced themselves as Lieutenant McCain and Major Harrison.

"That's impossible." Harrison said. "The Covenant doesn't take prisoners, except for the occasional straggler that they tear up for sport. I don't see how you guys can still _be_ alive if you were indeed taken prisoner by the Covenant."

Fayt nervously scratched his head. How to explain to these people that they had just simply warped into the Covenant vessel?

"Sir, we weren't exactly taken prisoner. We… just happened to… be there. I know this is a very vague explanation, but this is all we can give you without having you doubting our sanity." Fayt finally said.

"Not taken prisoner? Just happened to be there? Well, from the navigation logs in your stolen Phantom, it tells us that you guys came from right in the middle of Covenant territory! How in the hell did you guys manage to get there in the first place?" McCain questioned.

"We… uhh…" Fayt didn't have an answer to that one.

"We screwed up in our Slipspace navigations for our own ship, and we ended up there." Cliff finished for him. Fayt stared at the Klausian in awe. It astonished him that Cliff could always come up with lies and excuses so quickly and easily, though his lies weren't always the most believable ones…

"Well… I find your explanation very dubious, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. You guys sure as hell aren't with the Covenant. We'll have to find a safe area to evacuate you civilians to, it isn't safe here…" Harrison started, but Cliff started to protest.

"What? Evacuate? Oh, hell no! I'm gonna fight those Covenant! I've got a score to settle with those things." Cliff fingered his bandaged side, and the plasma burn beneath it.

"You guys want to fight?" Harrison was shocked at this, but he thought over it for a moment. "Well, since you _were_ able to escape from the Covenant, I suppose that speaks enough of your skills… All right. I'll let you fight, but the moment you guys prove to be a liability to us, I'm removing you from the field."

"All right! Time to kick some Covenant butt!" Peppita cried out, jumping up and down excitedly.

McCain and Baxter shook their heads at this, and Harrison raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, the PA system crackled to life, and the platform AI's voice come online.

"Attention. We have incoming boarders. All hands report to battle stations. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill!"

"Damn!" McCain cursed. "The Covenant must be trying to board the stations already."

Harrison looked at the party. "Well, this is your chance to show us what you're made of. Don't make me regret my choice to let you fight."

"Oh, you won't regret it, all right." Cliff grinned as he cracked his knuckles.

The group started to head out the doors, but Harrison called out "Hey, blue kid!"

Fayt turned around and cocked his head quizzically at the Major. Harrison looked over Fayt for a moment before saying, 'That armor of yours looks really beat up. You might want to get a new set."

Fayt grinned and replied, "No thanks. If I'm going to get a new set of clothes, it's going to be from the civilian section. I never liked having to wear Battle Armor anyway."

"Well, there's a civilian surplus cache nearby. Take the corridor on your left and continue on, it's at the end of the hall. Just get some decent protective wear on. I hate having to lose my men simply because they never bothered to wear armor."

Fayt nodded his thanks and exited the room, turning to his left and heading down the corridor. A few seconds later, he reached the cache. Entering the room, he started rifling through the numerous boxes that filled up the room completely.

Several crates later, Fayt still hadn't found anything to his liking. Frustrated, he kicked his foot against one of the still unopened boxes, knocking it over and spilling out its contents, and yielding an unexpected result.

A set of black garments had spilled out of the box, along with a note. Curious, Fayt peered closer at the clothes, picking up the note and reading it.

_Fayt_

_I've been studying your powers recently, and I believe that I've created a method through which you'll be able to harness the power of your gene more efficiently. I've managed to create and imbue these garments with special abilities, all of which are focused on enhancing your power, and your ability to control it. You should already feel stronger once you put on the clothing._

_Consider this a good-bye gift from me. I hope that it'll prove useful. Good luck on your journey._

_Blair_

Fayt smiled and stuffed the note in his pocket. _Ah, good old Blair. What _would _we do without her? _He thought to himself as he picked up the clothes and examined them for a moment before closing and locking the door, taking a few seconds to change.

To say that it was a bizarre experience would be a severe understatement.

As Fayt slipped on the shirt, an image flowed into his mind - he could clearly see himself surrounded by fire and redness, utilizing his strength to its fullest potential.

He put on the pants, and another image came to mind -surrounded by ice and blueness, his symbological potential reaching new heights.

He pulled the fingerless gloves onto his hands, and yet another image popped up - he envisioned his body enshrouded in shadows, his heart and soul overcome by the power of darkness. Fayt felt sickened by this vision and was tempted to pull the gloves off, but he pushed the sickening sensation aside and put on the vest.

The next vision he received wasn't as bad as the last one. This time, he felt an invigorating rush of warmth - surrounded by a bright, chrome yellow energy, he saw himself as a master of all skills. Fayt immediately started to like that vest.

He finally picked up the last item from the package; a small, silver pendant that had a small symbol that dangled in the front of it. Fayt recognized that symbol immediately - he saw that symbol every time he triggered Ethereal Blast.

It was the symbol of his Destruction Gene.

Fayt smiled at this, and slipped the pendant over his neck. He would never forget the incredible sensation he experienced after that.

It was like he had been blind before, and he had finally gained true sight. He gained a glimpse of ultimate power - he saw himself surrounded by whiteness; divine energy. His power had reached its true potential.

The vision abruptly ended, and Fayt almost staggered from the sudden loss of such power. He caught himself just before he lost his balance, and braced himself against the doorway, breathing quickly.

Fayt knew that he couldn't take his time dilly-dallying around, so he took a few moments to get his breath back before heading off.

And with his fresh, new, stronger look, the bluenette went to join his comrades in battle.

* * *

"How's it going, Cairo?" 

"Stand by… **_CLANG _**… They're latched! Check your targets, watch your crossfire! They're in standard formation: little bastards in front, big ones in back. Good luck, Atlantis."

"Roger that. Need any assistance?"

"We have insufficient personnel to repel boarders, request reinforcements ASAP!"

"Copy that. Reinforcements ETA… 10 minutes."

"Make it six. Cairo out."

Fayt listened to all of this over the COM channel, noting it grimly. Apparently, they were up against superior numbers, and reinforcements were too damn far away to make a difference in time.

He cradled his sub-machine gun and huddled closer to the wall that provided cover for him.

Peppita and Sophia weren't trusted to handle a firearm, so they were kept towards the back, armed with med kits and ready to administer first aid to any wounded personnel.

Cliff was a few meters to Fayt's left, training both his shotguns on the blast door that the Covenant were about to cut through. Adray had somehow managed to get his hands on some rocket launchers, and he hefted two of them on both his shoulders, keeping them more or less pointed towards the blast door.

"Get a field of fire on that bulkhead!" Baxter shouted out to the rest of the Marines in the room as a bright light started to shine in the middle of the blast door, along with several sparks. The Covenant were cutting through. "As soon as that door opens, let those alien bastards have it!"

The marine next to Fayt glanced at him, and the swords strapped to his back.

"Think those pieces of metal are gonna help?" He said snidely.

Fayt gave him an affronted look. "These aren't just pieces of metal, these swords have saved my life more times than I can count! They're like a part of me!"

The marine smirked. "Yeah, right. And my combat knife has killed more Covenant than your new SMG over there has." He directed a look at the SMG that Fayt held in an awkward grip.

"Oh, you'll see how deadly this sword can be in due time. You'll see." Fayt replied as he patted the hilt of his Levantine and turned his attention back to the blast door.

A few seconds later, the door exploded outwards in a ball of fire, and plasma blasts shot out of the smokescreen. A few of the Marines took hits, and they staggered for a bit before turning back to the blast door.

They opened fire. Fayt struggled to keep his aim steady as he let off a sustained burst of fire from his SMG, cutting down on off-guard Jackal and stunning a second. Cliff unloaded blast after blast of buckshot at the Covenant warriors, racking the slides of his shotguns as fast as his arms could move. Adray let fly with the rockets, and the twin streaks of explosives detonated in the midst of the oncoming horde of alien soldiers that were streaming through the wreckage of the blast door.

Several of the bird-like aliens, the ones that the Marines called 'Jackals', came up front, holding up their energy shields and forming a phalanx, preventing any of the Marine's shots from penetrating. They advanced inexorably forward, cutting down any Marines that were foolish enough not to duck behind cover.

Adray reloaded the rocket tubes and fired again, the rockets blowing twin holes in the Jackals' formation. Cliff took this opportunity to toss in a couple of frag grenades in the holes before the Jackals reformed.

The grenades detonated right in the middle of the Jackals' formation, blowing pieces of them left and right.

The larger aliens – the Brutes – immediately rushed forward and filled took the place of the dead Jackals, their plasma rifles spewing out bolts of energy. Several of the Marines were cut down in the charge, but the humans continued to fight.

Adray had run out of rockets by now, so he picked up two heavy machine guns and let fly a hell-storm of lead at the Covenant warriors.

Cliff took a number of plasma shots, and there were holes in his Ablative armor everywhere, but he merely gritted his teeth in pain and continued firing his shotguns.

Fayt continued firing his SMG in short bursts until the bolt locked open – empty magazine. He cursed and reached to his belt for a new clip, only to realize that he didn't have a marine's ammo belt in the first place. Fayt swore and tossed the empty weapon onto the floor, drawing the Levantine out of its sheath.

_Ok, Levantine. Now's your chance to show these marines what you're made of._ Leaping forth right into the horde of Covenant, Fayt let loose with all of his skills.

"Air Raid!" Fayt launched himself upwards and launched several blasts of energy from the Levantine. Jackals and Brutes alike were thrown into the air as the explosions blew them left and right.

Cliff and Adray took this as their cue to start their individual assaults. Adray threw himself forward, yelling "Chaos Tide!" as he plowed through the Covenant ranks, sending their warriors tumbling.

"Aerial Assault!" Cliff leapt upwards high into the air, landing right in the middle of the alien horde, creating a shockwave that bowled over several of the Covenant warriors.

The marines stopped shooting and stared in awe at the three combatants that were single-handedly decimating the Covenant. Fayt's movements were but a blur as he dodged left and right, all of the Covenant's plasma shots missing him. Cliff and Adray were nigh unstoppable pillars of strength, their attacks crushing the alien warriors with ease.

The assault ended as abruptly as it had begun. Realizing that they were up against a superior opponent, what few remaining Brutes there were called for a hasty retreat. The Covenant warriors backed away rapidly, running further into the station.

The three of them immediately gave chase, the marines hot on their heels. The aliens that were too slow in escaping with their comrades were mercilessly cut down, and soon enough a trail of dead bodies began to form behind the fleeing Covenant troops.

By the time what was left of the Covenant assault force had reached the safety of their boarding craft, already more than three quarters of their numbers had been cut down. Cliff grabbed the last Jackal that was about to dive through the airlock, raised the screaming alien over his head, and slammed the Jackal's back down on his knee with a sickening crack. The alien's screams stopped abruptly and its body went limp in his hands.

The Covenant boarding craft immediately detached from the airlock once the last of their warriors were through, eager to escape from the wanton slaughter the three humans were unleashing upon their force.

"And stay out!" Cliff shouted at the retreating craft before he turned back to face the marines that had followed them here.

The marines stood in utter silence, staring at the three who had single-handedly taken on a full complement of Covenant boarders and won with but a few minor plasma burns.

Baxter broke the silence with a short sentence that summed up the thoughts of the marines in the room.

"Holy _shit_."

Suddenly, the sergeant's radio crackled to life as the AI of the Atlantis Station opened a COM channel. "Cairo, what is your status? Over."

"I don't believe it! They're retreating! We won!" Cairo Station's AI exclaimed.

One of the marines whistled. "So that means that these three here beat them back single-handedly!"

Cheers arose from the rest of the marines in the room. Baxter walked up to the trio with a wide grin on his face and slapped each of them on the shoulder.

"You guys are good! With this kind of help, along with the Spartans, I think we might actually win this war!" He said, his grin growing even wider.

"Ha! Like a walk in the park!" Adray laughed as he slapped the sergeant's shoulder in return, sending the smaller man reeling.

Baxter's radio suddenly crackled to life, and the voice of the station's commander, Fleet Admiral Hood, came online.

"Sergeant, good job defending the station, but we need you and your men on the ground, ASAP! More of the Covenant are landing on Earth, they're going for the major population centers!"

"Roger that, Admiral." Baxter replied before keying off his comm. He turned back to the trio, his grin growing impossibly wider, almost reaching from one ear to the other.

"Well, we're needed to go groundside. And if I'm not wrong, there'll be _plenty_ of Covenant for you guys to kill over there…" Baxter snickered.

Cliff smirked and slammed his fists together. "Oh yeah, we'll kick serious Covenant ass, all right!"

* * *

"So what the hell happened to kicking serious Covenant ass?" Fayt shouted from his prone position behind cover as plasma fire pummeled their position. The party, Baxter and a platoon of his marines, had been ambushed by a large company of Covenant troops while traversing through a large, half-demolished tunnel highway in New York's underground. Those that survived the ambush that had cut down more than half the platoon had quickly taken cover behind a large pile of debris that offered excellent protection. 

"I don't know, I think we've bitten off more than we can chew!" Cliff peeked over the pile of debris and fired off his last few rounds of ammo from his Battle Rifle. A Jackal easily deflected the shots with its shield, and it continued advancing along with its comrades.

"How many times have you done that and ended up dragging the rest of us down into trouble up to our necks!" Fayt yelled, rising to cover Cliff as he reloaded. He tossed a grenade into the middle of the Jackal's formation, but they angled their shields upwards, and the grenade bounced harmlessly off the silver barriers before detonating harmlessly behind them.

Fayt cursed and ducked behind cover again as the Jackals opened fire once more, the volley of plasma blasts splashing harmlessly against the debris pile.

Sophia tapped Fayt's arm to get his attention. "Fayt, I have an idea! I need you and some of the marines to cover me while I prepare an Explosion to take out those Covenant! It'll take time and it'll be tricky, but it's better than staying here and getting whittled down to pieces!" She shouted to be heard over the din of gunfire and explosions.

One look over the debris pile, and at the humongous alien horde bearing down upon them, with their plasma weapons blazing, it was enough for Fayt to come to a rapid decision.

"All right, we'll give it a try! Stay here, I need to go inform Baxter about this!" Fayt peeked over the debris pile for a split-second before ducking back in, readying himself. A second later, he burst out from behind cover, tossing several grenades right into the Covenant ranks before dashing to his right, where Baxter and his men had hunkered down.

His distraction was successful; the grenades sent the alien warriors scrambling for cover, and they never got a chance to get a shot at the running figure until he was well under cover.

Throwing himself down onto the space next to Baxter, Fayt tapped the sergeant's shoulder. Baxter stopped firing over the debris pile and turned around, giving Fayt an annoyed look. "What now, kid? We're already in the shit up to our eyeballs!"

"Sergeant, my companions and I have come up with a plan that'll get us out of this mess, but we need some of your men's help!" Fayt replied.

Baxter turned back and glanced at the Covenant warriors bearing down upon them. "All right. What's your plan?" He said grimly after a moment's consideration.

Fayt told Baxter what Sophia had planned out, and Baxter's annoyed look changed to one of perplexion. "Well... I guess only you guys could pull it off... okay, carry on." Baxter finally conceded.

He faced his platoon and called out a few names. "Blackwell, Shugi, Duke, Parker, Portman! Follow the kid here, he's got a plan that'll get us out of this mess!"

The marines' attitude instantly switched from despair to hope. The five marines that Baxter called out quickly came forth, their expressions hopeful, looking at Fayt with expectation. Fayt signaled for them to follow him and sprinted back to Sophia, with the marines right behind him.

Once they had met up with Sophia, Fayt relayed the plan to the marines, who nodded their understanding. Once sure that he had everything in the plan gelled and covered, Fayt gave his group the signal to begin.

It was utter chaos amongst the Covenant ranks the moment the marines burst out from behind cover, tossing grenades and firing their weapons like nobody's business. The aliens scrambled left, right, forward, backward, anywhere to escape from marines' fire, resulting in a severe disarray that left Sophia completely unhindered as she started murmuring the symbol invocations to trigger a fireball that would incinerate the Covenant.

Fayt reached down onto his belt for another grenade, but he discovered that he had just run out. He started to pull the SMG from its holster, but a sudden wild shot from a Jackal's plasma pistol forced him to throw himself backward and back behind the debris pile in order to avoid the shot.

What he did would render him powerless to alter the course of events that would take place within the next ten seconds.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Once Fayt had thrown himself backwards, the Jackals had taken advantage of his absence from combat to toss a brightly glowing sphere - a plasma grenade - right at Sophia. Portman had seen this, and he threw himself in front of Sophia, causing the plasma grenade to adhere to him instead of her. He violently pushed Sophia backwards just before the grenade detonated and sprayed the floor with what looked like red paint.

Sophia had avoided the worst of the blast, but she had still been burned severely. Fayt shouted out her name as her limp body was flung backwards by the force of the explosion, landing roughly right at the back of the debris pile. Throwing what remained of his plan to the wind, Fayt dashed across the battlefield, kneeling down next to the unconscious form of his childhood friend.

His blood roaring in his ears, Fayt could hardly hear a thing even as Baxter came up to him and started yelling incoherently in his ear. His eyes brimming with tears of grief, Fayt directed a helpless look at the sergeant before turning back to Sophia. Baxter threw his arms up into the air in frustration and signaled for a medic.

_No… this… can't be happening! No! NO! WHY? _Fayt couldn't tear his eyes away from the still form of his childhood friend. Sophia had been like a sister to him, and to lose her now... it was almost too much for him to bear. His heart beat like a jackhammer in his ears, and his vision started to turn red, burning with hate and rage.

_They'll pay for this... _Fayt started to stand up, when suddenly a wave of nausea and weakness overtook him, causing him to double over in pain as he fell to his knees. Fayt tried to push past it, but it proved too much, and he fell to the ground. His heart was pounding against his ribcage like a wild animal, its beats feeling as though it was attempting to bludgeon its way out of his chest. Blazing heat raced around his body, his nerves were on fire. His blood felt like liquid fire flowing through his veins. His legs convulsed spastically and his hands clawed at the floor.

His entire body felt as though it was on fire. His brain felt like it was boiling within his skull. Fayt rolled to his knees, screeching like a banshee, every movement sending hot bolts of pain through his body. Molten lava filled his bones as he somehow managed to haul himself to his feet and staggered forward a few feet before dropping to his knees again, alien fire searing his body from within. His pupils contracted to a pinpoint, and the vivid green of his eyes flashed away, giving way to an ominous shade of crimson. Shouting voices surrounded him, but he paid them no heed.

Fayt couldn't take it anymore. The pain was just too much...

He arched his back and screamed as no human had ever screamed before. And with that bloodcurdling scream, all the pain, all the agony, it all seemed to bleed away... all of it replaced by a wonderful rush of strength.

A red symbol flared to life on his forehead; tendrils of white energy - Destruction energy - swirled out of it, forming a protective sphere around him. The same symbol appeared on the floor below him as well as the air above him; the marines that had surrounded him quickly backed away, fearful of this unnatural power. The symbols and the sphere flashed for a split-second before the symbols faded and the sphere shattered; a changed Fayt emerged from his cocoon of transformation.

(Warning: Blatant Kingdom Hearts II rip-off)

His clothes had turned bright red, with spear point designs at the edges of his sleeves and pant legs. Red-tinged bolts of Destruction energy crackled around his fists, and in both hands, he wielded a white, ethereal-looking blade that seemed to be composed completely out of Destruction energy - a Destruction Blade. He had a wild, adrenaline-fuelled look in his crimson-hued eyes, and his movements were much more rapid than usual.

(A/N: Ladies and gentlemen, presenting the beginnings of Fayt's Destruction Trigger, I give you the Valor Trigger!)

In an instant, Fayt was on his feet, and dashing right into the middle of the Covenant horde. The marines were too shocked to do anything but watch as the now-red-clad swordsman performed a suicidal berserker charge at a horde of alien opponents.

The Covenant were also taken by surprise, standing still in shock as a single human came running towards them, screaming a war-cry as he suicidally charged forth.

Then they regained their composure and opened fire.

The first few shots were complete misses; Fayt's movements were so rapid and lightning-fast that most of the shots passed by him with several feet to spare. The next volley almost hit him, but Fayt once again dodged the shots with his insane reflexes, weaving forward with all the speed he could muster. Everything around him seemed to be moving around in semi-slow motion; he was able to continue dodging the Jackals' poorly placed shots with ease. He leapt forward bringing his Destruction Blades into play, and then... he was among them, hacking and slashing with all the strength he had.

The Jackals closest to him immediately fell to his wrath, and the Destruction Blades _disintegrated_ them. Their cries were short and fleeting, abruptly cut off as they were erased from the universe.

Those that survived Fayt's initial assault were quick to counter-attack, but Fayt once again avoided their shots with superhuman speed, continuing to obliterate those that were foolish enough to attempt to close the distance with him.

One foolhardy Brute attempted to tackle him into the ground, but Fayt preempted its clumsy attack by backflipping over its head and kick-jumping off its neck, using the force of his jump to propel himself forward and barrel through a file of Jackals, obliterating them with his Destruction Blades. Once he hit the floor, he rolled to his feet and spun around several times with his blades outstretched, disintegrating the score of Brutes that tried to bring him down, all the while never missing a step.

It wasn't a battle; it was a slaughter. The Jackals, or even the Brutes that commanded them; none of them were able to stand up to Fayt's awesome might. A mere five minutes later, every single Covenant soldier in the tunnel had either been disintegrated or had fled from the scene. Fayt stood in the middle of the empty tunnel that had, until a moment ago, been swarming with Covenant troops.

The marines were once again struck speechless, this time along with the party. Cliff's jaw had dropped so low it almost came into contact with the ground, Adray was looking at Fayt with something that resembled reverence, and Peppita was starting at Fayt in amazement.

Fayt's outfit flashed for a moment, and then he reverted back to his normal appearance. Suddenly feeling exhausted beyond belief, he fell onto one knee, breathing harshly and using his sword as a support to hold himself up. His body was coated with perspiration, his bangs plastered to his forehead. Cliff snapped himself out of his daze and came forward to extend a hand to the panting bluenette, asking if he was all right.

"I'm fine. Just tired..." Fayt waved away Cliff's arm and tried to stand on his own, but he was struck by a sudden wave of vertigo the moment he took his first step. He wavered for a moment before teetering forward, and he would have smashed face-first into the ground if Cliff hadn't thrust out an arm to halt his fall.

"You're not fine, kid. I think you've pushed yourself a bit too far with that stunt you pulled off." Cliff said as he threw Fayt's arm around his shoulder and began pulling him back to where the marines waited. Cliff sat Fayt down onto a low outcropping of debris, allowing the exhausted swordsman to take a breather.

Baxter finally shook himself out of his shocked, comatose state and turned to Cliff, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Cliff, just what the _fuck_ happened?"

"A miracle happened, that's what." Cliff replied, never taking his eyes off Fayt, who still sat on the outcropping of debris, his body heaving as he sucked in huge gulps of air in an attempt to get his breath back. "I think Fayt's gene has manifested itself again..."

Baxter stared at the empty tunnel, still unable to grasp the fact that an entire company of Covenant troops had been single-handedly _wiped out of existence_ by a mere boy. Perhaps such an event really _was_ worthy of being called a miracle...

Baxter's radio crackled to life. It was Lord Hood on the line again. "Good job on holding the ground, sergeant. Reports from your other platoons indicate that the general area has been mopped clean of the Covenant, and I see that you've managed to pull yourself out of a tight situation as well..."

"Yes sir! That Leingod kid saved the lives of me and my men, he's one helluva fighter." Baxter replied as he looked at Fayt, who had managed to catch his breath and was trying to get up from his sitting position. "Our orders now, sir?"

"Extract your men and return to Cairo station; we've just received a transmission from Commander Keyes and Sergeant Johnson. Apparently, they've run into a group of people that are rather similar to the ones you're working with now. They've requested for a small fleet of our ships to rendezvous with them and pick them up. Looks like they got stranded wherever they landed. You're going to be bringing your charges along with our fleet to meet up with them."

"Yes sir! We'll be back in Cairo station within the hour, sir!" Baxter keyed off the comm and turned to his men. "All right! We've been ordered to leave groundside; we're needed to escort our friends here to meet up with Commander Keyes and Sergeant Johnson. We need to back at Cairo station within the hour, so let's move it!"

Once he had finished, Baxter turned to the party. "Looks like that some of our forces elsewhere have run into your friends. We're bringing you along with us to go meet up with them."

Fayt's eyes lit up at the mention of 'friends'. Did that mean that she was still...

Yes! It had to be! Maria was still alive! Fayt felt like jumping up and down for joy, but he recalled Sophia's injuries as well as his own exhaustion, and he decided that jumping up and down wouldn't be the best thing to do right now. Still, even as he boarded the dropship with Cliff's assistance, Fayt could hardly contain his excitement, and he was unable to wipe the small grin off his face as they returned to Cairo station.

* * *

"Ah, there you are." Hood turned away from the video display as Baxter and the party, missing Sophia who was in the infirmary getting her wounds treated, entered the briefing room. "We've managed to maintain the connection with the commander so far, and we've also managed to reestablish contact with one of our personnel who was believed to have been killed a few hours ago. He'll be joining us shortly, once he manages to get back to the station from the ship he's hijacked." 

Fayt quickly came up to Hood, looking very eager. "Admiral, sir, the people that you said the commander ran into, are they still there?"

Hood looked a bit surprised at Fayt's sudden outburst, but he nodded and turned back to the video display, hitting the button that said 'video'. A window winked to life on the screen, displaying the images of a raven-haired woman in her late twenties, a burly, dark-skinned man who was smoking a cigar, and…

"MARIA! You're all right!" Fayt practically shouted as he grinned from ear to ear, his fatigue totally forgotten. The image of the blue-haired young woman on the screen who was standing next to the raven-haired woman smiled back at him with a calm expression, though the same kind of excitement that Fayt felt was revealed by the look in her eyes.

Apparently, Maria was just as happy to see Fayt as he was to see her, though Fayt didn't really register this fact due to the overwhelming amount of endorphins that were coursing through his system.

"Hello, Fayt. It's good to see you too." Maria replied, still smiling. The raven-haired woman shot her a slightly annoyed look before turning back to the screen.

"Let's get back to business, shall we?" The woman spoke. "Admiral, these are the people that you found?" She gestured towards Fayt and the others.

"That's correct, Commander Keyes. We're sending the rescue fleet to you now, ETA is fifteen hours."

"Roger that, Admiral... Has there been any word of the Master Chief?" Commander Keyes asked with slight hesitance.

"Yes, there _has _been word of him. In fact, I think he'll be..." Hood's sentence got cut off as the doors to the briefing room slid open.

A massive figure stepped inside. For a moment, Fayt thought that the figure was one of the Covenant as well - it was armored and bigger than any human he had ever laid eyes on. He froze - his hand was on the hilt of his Veinslay, but he couldn't have pulled it out of its sheath even if he wanted to.

It was human, though. The figure stood over two meters tall and looked like it weighed two hundred kilograms. Its armor was a strange reflective green alloy, and underneath matte black. Its motions were so fluid and graceful - fast and precise, too. More like a robot than flesh and blood. Its helmet's faceplate was made of a reflective material, so Fayt could not make out any features of its face.

The armored giant marched forward and crisply snapped a salute to Lord Hood.

"Master Chief SPARTAN-117 reporting as ordered, sir!" It said in an iron-hard, rasping male voice.

Lord Hood returned the salute and said "At ease, Chief. It's about time you got here. Keyes was looking for you."

The Master Chief stepped up in front of the console.

"Ah, Chief! There you are. You've missed the party!" The dark-skinned man said, pulling the cigar out of his mouth.

"That's... besides the point, Sergeant Johnson." Hood sighed before he turned to the Master Chief. "Chief, you're required to go with the rescue fleet and pick up Commander Keyes, Sergeant Johnson, and the group of civilians they ran into. The group of civilians behind you, they'll be tagging along, make sure they don't get killed."

The Master Chief nodded and glanced at Fayt. The bluenette shifted uncomfortably under the faceless Spartan's gaze.

"Yes sir. Understood, sir." The Master Chief said.

"Your flight out of here is in one hour's time. Gather the necessary supplies and rendezvous with the cruiser _Reynolds_. The Captain of the cruiser already has orders to gather a small rescue fleet and rendezvous at the coordinates that Commander Keyes provided us with. Dismissed."

"Sir!" The Master Chief and Sergeant Baxter saluted and marched out of the room with the rest of the party.

* * *

The trip through Slipspace on the cruiser _Reynolds_ was uneventful. Without anything much to do but get some rest, the party had turned in for the night. Grateful for the actual soft linen of a bed instead of the cold hard metal of the deck of an alien craft, the party had immediately hit the sack. 

Well, almost all of them.

Fayt lay down on his bunk, tossing and turning. On the bed below him, Cliff snored noisily, occasionally muttering something that vaguely sounded like 'Mirage', followed by a moan before he resumed snoring. On the separate bunk to his right, Adray sounded like a foghorn, his deafening snores drowning out Cliff's. But these noises weren't the things that kept Fayt awake. He could sleep through Adray's foghorns or Cliff's audio-based sexual fantasies, no problem.

However, what was _really_ keeping him awake were thoughts about _her._

No, not the brunette 'her'... He wasn't worried about Sophia at all. The Navy doctor had told him that though Sophia had been severely burned by the plasma grenade, she would still be all right - they'd treated many injuries like Sophia's, and all of their patients had managed a complete, though somewhat painful recovery. He knew Sophia would be all right after some time.

Who he was thinking about was the only other bluenette he knew - Maria Traydor.

He had been unable to get her off his mind once he had seen her via the transmission. Fayt had wondered over the reason for this strange phenomenon, but every time he seemed to have come across the actual reason, his mind forcibly created a blank that sent him back to square one. Maybe he was just in denial...

Yeah, Fayt was pretty sure that he had fallen in love with Maria. _WAIT A MINUTE. OH, HELL NO!_ _Maria's like a sister to me, I couldn't possibly..._

Oh, but he could. And he was. His heart's secret affection (one that came out only when he was drunk) had finally been unlocked and released. Fayt's mind reeled from this new discovery. _Now_ he realized why his heart had skipped a beat when he saw Maria on the video screen.

Fayt cursed himself for being such a fool for so long. He was going to have to make it up to Maria somehow when he next saw her...

And now that he thought of it, what did Maria asking him about 'last night's events' back in the Manor de Blair have to do with this? Fayt was unable to comprehend the possibilities of his actions. Did he... defile her or something? The more he thought about it, the more terrified he got as he pondered over what he could have possibly done to her. _Oh boy... I'm in deep shit now..._

He decided not to suffer anymore, and halted his thoughts immediately. Good thing he always kept a couple of sleeping pills in his pack whenever they had to subdue Albel and keep him from going on his nightly monster killing sprees...

He dug the small bottle out of his pack, popped a couple of the pills, and within a few moments, his snoring reached levels comparable to that of Cliff's.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, first week of school has been hell! I've hardly any time to finish writing this chapter! And also sorry for the probable lower quality - school also leaves less time for planning and refining. For those of you who are a bit confused as to the nature of the newly-featured Valor Trigger, here's a _very long _explanation. 

Valor Trigger (Basic control of the Destruction Trigger's power)

The first DeT form that Fayt obtains, this form specializes in close-in attacking. Fayt's outfit and eyes turn fiery red in this form, and his sleeves and his pant legs are decorated at the edges with spear point designs. Fayt will wield two Destruction Blades (swords composed completely of Destruction Energy) in this form, though he has to relinquish his symbology. He also gains a significant boost to his movement speed. This form hits hard, and it hits fast. Has VERY high attack and defense stats, but poor magic stats. This form comes in useful in enclosed areas such as corridors or labyrinths. It uses up the minimal amount of power needed for transformation.

Now, as for the_ purpose_ of the Triggers: Well, we all know that unleashing all the power in one huge blast puts one helluva physical strain on Fayt; this is proven by his unconsciousness after the huge blast he used to erase that Vendeeni battleship back Elicoor II. The Triggers will allow Fayt to use his power to a greater extent without putting so much of a physical strain on him that he collapses right after using the ability. Hence, he may be very tired after using Valor, Wisdom, or even Master Form, but he won't be unconscious. Also, as the forms 'level up' along with Fayt, they'll put less of a strain on him, and allow him to use his powers more often. It's kinda like this: Fayt's power runs on an imaginary 'DeT gauge', one that fills up when he either damages an enemy or takes damage himself. The gauge is measured in 'symbols', and he needs a minimum of four symbols in order to transform into and maintain either Valor or Wisdom form. Once he has transformed, the remaining symbols in the DeT gauge will slowly dissipate as the forms drain power. Fayt can revert from each form either by will or when the DeT gauge runs out. More advanced forms will require more symbols in order to activate. Fayt starts off with four symbols, and gains two extra symbols everytime he acquires a new form. Each form has three levels; the symbol requirements for activations decreases by one for each level. Currently, both Valor and Wisdom form drains 3 symbols to activate.

A/N 2: There _might_ be a sequel, or even two sequels in the works! It all depends on how well this fic goes, the higher the number of reviews, the higher the chances of us continuing on into an epic trilogy that spans two generations! You know what that means: We'll be featuring the descendants of the original cast in the sequels!

So if you want to see Fayt and Maria's son or Albel and Nel's daughter in action, fighting alongside their parents, then you should get your friends to read these fics and REVIEW LIKE HELL if you want the sequels!


	5. Dirge of Cerberus

Disclaimer: Huh? Me? What?

* * *

A/N: The Chief has always insisted that the two groups are Fayt's and Maria's group. Well here's a teeny-weeny reminder bozo: its ALBEL THE WICKED'S GROUP! Not Maria's! The wicked boy's back in style. 

* * *

Chapter 3: Dirge of Cerberus

But while Fayt's group had been kicking ass back on earth, Albel's group had their own worries. Some weird words were blaring on the holographic display screen of their 'Phantom', as the database described it, and sirens were flaring. Although none of the party could read these words, maybe with the exception of Mirage who was trying her best to decipher them, they all understood what they meant.

"Engine's overloading. We're going to get shoved out of Gravitic Warp Space in three…two…one…" Mirage counted down.

A brilliant display of flashing, almost blinding light was accompanied by a great surge forward, throwing everyone off their feet. Crates fell from makeshift shelves; papers, books and maps were flung throughout the cockpit and humans were piled together in a stack of limbs.

"Ouch, what the hell just happened? Since when was exiting Warp Space like that?" whined Roger. The Elicoorian had gotten used to all the high-tech gizmos and terms in the Cosmic era, and even grown fond of them in 4-D space, but this was going a little overboard.

"Since we exited Warp Space in the middle of a battle," was the Albel's answer to the Menodix.

"What the…" Nel leapt to her feet and peered cautiously out the viewing port, only to be knocked back to the floor by the impact of a plasma torpedo exploding meters away from the Phantom.

Struggling, Maria managed to drag herself into the pilot's chair and strapped herself in. Then, the wild and desperate attempt to evade any incoming projectiles began.

It was fairly easy though, with the larger capital ships ignoring the small Phantom totally, and the smaller fighters looking towards the huge cruisers and carriers for more glorious and lucrative kills, the only things Maria had to dodge were stray shots, which were, thankfully, few and far between.

That is, until Roger, too small for the safety belts to hold down efficiently, was flung out of his seat yet again, slamming into Maria's back.

This small accident had near-catastrophic repercussions. Lurching forward, Maria subconsciously pressed the button on the joystick.

The button that controlled the Phantom's plasma cannons.

To make matters worse, as though by sheer lack of luck, another fighter flew into the path of the blasts, and was reduced to space junk in a fiery display of power.

Ever had the feeling that the whole world stopped at that instant to look at you? The party certainly did. And it really didn't help that this whole world was armed to the teeth, and brimming with the blood-thirsty urge to reduce someone else to space-dust.

Mirage could see everything clearly: torpedoes getting loaded into their tubes, anti-fighter rapid-fire cannons taking aim, pulse lasers getting aligned, fighters taking their formations and automatic laser-tracking systems finding their mark. In the centre of it all, them.

"What's happening now?" asked Roger innocently, the Menodix's size not allowing him to see above the dashboard of the Phantom.

"The whole world's taking aim at us thanks to your acrobatic act maggot," replied Albel.

"How many guns?" Roger asked again.

"Too many," replied the warrior again, this time with a hint of irritation.

"What happens now?"

"We are so fucked."

"What should be do?"

"Isn't that obvious worm? Panic."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The cockpit was echoing with Roger's screaming, not that Maria could care less, she had another job: to get them out of this mess in one piece.

The armada of ships opened up, with all myriad of munitions searing towards them, either missing by miles, whizzing past them inches away, their sheer velocity melting the alien armor of the Phantom away.

Despite all this, Maria was doing a great job. Quark wasn't exactly on very good terms with the Pangalactic Federation, and it wasn't very numerous either. Taking heavy fire like this wasn't very uncommon. But this wasn't the super-maneuverable "Eagle" class fighter. Neither was it the heavily armored "Zero" class fighter bomber.

The Phantom was slower than the Eagle, and lacked the armor and shields of the Zero. Which meant one thing: They wouldn't be getting out of this in very good shape.

Then it happened. One simple second of misjudgment and it was all over. Maria totally forgetting rule one of taking fire: The time it takes to think is the time to die. Thus, don't think, hesitated for a second, and within that second, a volley of pulse laser blasts slammed into the engine of the Phantom, lunging the entire party forward.

"We're going down, everyone buckle up!" Maria yelled back at the party, who all got ready to crash-land.

The ship started to enter the planet's atmosphere, the hull glowing white-hot and the parts knocked lose by the random fire getting bunked right off, leaving a spectacular trail of fiery death and destruction, and billowing soot-black smoke behind.

Despite leaving the space battle, the trauma wasn't over. The party was thrown into another battle, this time in the atmosphere.

Albel could see two distinctive sides. The taller, more organized race, the Elites, according to the book he was holding, were engaged in a fierce firefight with a smaller, less upright and less organized race, the Jackals.

Just as the Elites were about to gain the upper-hand, by successfully capturing what appeared to be a Jackal command-post, another race, obviously allies of the Jackals, joined the fray.

They were the Brutes, heavy bulking juggernauts who overwhelmed by sheer numbers and force, lacking any semblance of finesse or tactics. They bore down on the Elites, slowly eating away at their lines, and pushing them back bit by bit.

Then, the Jackals noticed the dying Phantom, and their entire artillery opened up on it.

Maria, now plagued with not only a failing engine, but damaged control systems and a complaining Roger, was definitely unhappy when the Jackals started firing. Thankfully, whilst the ailing Phantom could no longer maneuver as efficiently in the atmosphere as it could in zero-gravity environments, the Jackals munitions were designed to cause an immense splash area of effect, and not to pierce through armor. But the armor of the Phantom would soon give way, and they would all go up in a fireball.

And then, the worst-case scenario happened.

A more-powerful-than-usual explosion rocked the ship. Light flooded in and the explosions became louder. This could only mean one thing: the hull had been breached.

Turning back, Nel could see that the entire rear section of the Phantom had been blown right off, along with several seats. Seats that were all unoccupied.

All except for one: Albel's.

_

* * *

Ugh…today's definitely not my day. _

Albel slowly heaved his body up. He had no idea how long he had been lying there. All he knew was that he was reading that small book about the Covanent, and an explosion happened. Then it dawned upon him; he must have been blown out of the Phantom.

Nothing much he could do about it anyway. The party would most likely be dead. According to the strong anti-human messages the book brought forward, this Covenant definitely hated humans to the core. The party would most likely be shot on sight.

But this would be better for him. Whilst no one else around meant that there was no one to watch his back, it also meant there was no one to hold him down. A soloist and an egoist, this was exactly how Albel liked it.

_No murders to avenge. No innocents to save. No morals to uphold. _Albel took a while to recall the Black Brigade's motto. _Sweet_.

* * *

Albel crept along the eerie, dimly-lit corridors of what appeared to be a Covanent base. 

As he expected, there was only a skeleton roster of guards, now that most of them had been sent to the frontlines.

His natural swiftness allowed him to get past most guards unnoticed, and those that actually did notice him were all silenced by several quick slashes by his precious Crimson Scourge.

He couldn't read most of the signs, since they weren't in English, and he didn't have Nel's linguistic skills, but some symbols were universal. Symbols like someone going out a rectangular frame just yelled "Exit". That was his destination.

Then, he heard voices. Bird-like, high-pitched voices. Jackals.

He was a warrior all right, but he was also a captain. An a skillful captain knew how to use psychology to his advantage. A couple of decapitated Jackals would surely serve as a reminder to the Covanent guards that they weren't the boss.

Three Jackals seemed to be guarding the entrance to, according to the map, a huge chamber. If he wanted to encounter no resistance on his way to the exit, he would have to strike fear into the hearts of whatsoever guards that were left in the base.

"So I hear that the Elites are getting whooped!" squawked one of the Jackals, flapping his stick-thin arms to emphasize his point, "Our comrades are winning!"

"Yeah, that's great! I wish I could be there," replied the other, slightly disappointed he was missing the fun.

"Don't worry, we'll get our chance-" the third jackal was cut off my the sound of metal striking metal just behind the corner.

"Stay here, I'll check that out," commanded the first.

It slowly advanced towards the dark corner, plasmapistol leveled.

Then, his cautious advance paused. He stood there motionless, as if in a trance.

"Hey man, what's going on-" his partner's question was answered immediately, and gruesomely. The scout Jackal's head flopped off its neck, before falling to the floor with a dull thud.

The culprit emerged from behind the shadows, his blade dyed deep scarlet with the blood of his latest victim. To make matters worse, he was human.

"No human would be able to get this far in, except for the Demon!" screeched one of the surviving Jackals.

(A/N: The Demon is what the Covanent call the Master Chief.)

"But isn't the Demon on Earth?" queried the other.

They then started a heated discussion on "if the human before them was the Demon".

"Are you maggots going to shoot?" asked Albel, impatient.

The Jackals paused for a while, then shrieked loud warcries and blasted their plasma pistols down the corridor blindly, hoping that at least one of the plasma bolts would hit. Then, pistols overheated, they stopped.

"He's disappeared, he's dead!" cheered the first Jackal.

"Too slow," came a voice behind the Jackals. That was the last thing they heard.

* * *

The Jackals were little more than a distraction to Albel. He easily sliced them to confetti before entering the large chamber they were guarding. Expecting to find a larger number of guards, this time, there was none. Only a weird statue of a strange humanoid with ears on top of its head and a face like that of a…dog. 

There was something that irked him about the statue, but he ignored this feeling and and continued on his way to the door on the other side of the chamber. That is, until the statue _moved_.

Slowly, the strange statue rose from his kneeling position, stretched its huge, muscular arms, drew a humungous blade and threw its head back in a fearsome roar.

"Halt human! The likes of you who are unworthy are not welcome in this land! Leave now!" the statue demanded.

"What the…" muttered Albel.

"The word 'what' is inappropriate. It should be replaced by the word 'who'. And for that question, I am Cerberus, First Deathdealer of the Lesiri, sovereign rulers of the planet Lesroth," introduced Cerberus, "I have been sent as a diplomat to negotiate peace, cooperation and friendly relationships with the Covanent by my Chieftain."

"Wow, I've never seen a talking mutt before. Now in a dog show, you'll definitely win first place," taunted Albel, remembering the competitions organized back home on Elicoor for the Airyglyph nobility.

"Are you mocking me?" flared Cerberus, throwing his head back once again; he released a blast of pure energy from his snout, destroying the door from which Albel entered the room. There was no escape anymore for his prey.

"Easy fido, let me take you out for a walk. C'mon," teased Albel once again, showing gestures to Cerberus like those a master shows his canine companion.

"You'll regret this human, _En Garde_!" challenged Cerberus as he drew a huge blade and charged forth.

Seeing his foe armed and ready, Albel drew his blade and parried the blow, almost to be overcome by the sheer strength of the Lesiri warrior. Still, he strained his arm and was able to push the deadly blade away.

Unrelenting, Cerberus took a ready stance and charged again, this time sweeping his blade upwards, hoping that Albel would try to parry this blow again, and in doing so be flung upwards, vulnerable to a subsequent attack.

But Albel read this perfectly. Instead of parrying, he dodged the cumbersome blade and thrust his katana forth, planting a slight hit onto the torso of his foe. But by doing so, he brought himself dangerously close to Cerberus, allowing the Deathdealer to slam his knee into the human's gut.

Flinching, Albel was unable to react to Cerberus' blow to his jaw, which sent him reeling across the chamber. Struggling to his feet, he was knocked back down again by Cerberus' blade, his armor deflecting most of the damage though.

With a victor's cry, Cerberus prepared to deal the _Coup de Grace_, only to have Albel stab the Crimson Scourge into his unarmored calf. Yelling with pain, he retreated, allowing Albel valuable time to recover his footing.

Despite both combatants injured, the battle carried on with no less intensity. The chamber was ringing with the sound of steel meeting steel and blade biting flesh. The rose-red blood of the human warrior was scattered throughout the chamber, intertwined with the black blood of his Lesiri counterpart.

However, despite several breakthroughs by both parties, the fight was still largely a draw, with one warrior desperately parrying at one moment, then slamming his blade into his opponents flesh in the next.

Finally, Cerberus had a breakthrough. He feinted to the left, then thrust to the right, momentarily confusing Albel as he slammed his foot into the Elicoorian's chest.

Spitting a mouthful of blood, Albel was flung across the room, and crumpled onto the floor. He was down, but not out. Cerberus charged and struck at him savagely several times but each was countered by one of Albel's parries, that is until, the sound of metal giving way to sheer strength was heard.

With a desperate slash, Albel managed to force Cerberus to back off, but the damage had already been done. His beloved Crimson Scourge, once standing a good three feet, was reduced to less than half a foot.

_This damned mutt is gonna pay for this… _

Ditching his sword, Albel charged at Cerberus barehanded. Or that was what Cerberus though.

Confident his opponent was giving one last desperate attempt before falling, Cerberus decided to end it quick, and slammed his blade into the human, only to see the human catch his blade with his armored hand. Or what he though was an armored hand.

Then it dawned upon him. The human wasn't wearing a gauntlet or a metal glove on that hand. His _whole damned arm_ was metal.

"No way…" gasped Cerberus.

"Yes way puppy-boy," smirked Albel, as he delivered a bone-crunching punch to the snout of the Lesiri, forcing it to loosen his grip on his weapon, and take several retreating steps, clutching his snout. When he recovered from the initial shock, he found Albel in front of him, with his own blade leveled at his neck.

"Bad dog. Sit," teased Albel again.

"You are not human, are you?" asked Cerberus. There was no way a normal human could have beaten him.

"Who knows? I'm not even sure myself," replied the warrior.

(A/N: Is he human, data, a program or something else? Even I have no clue…)

"Regardless, you have proven your strength. Take my ID card and go forth. It should prevent any further trouble. You have my blessings," said Cerberus.

"Thanks warrior," acknowledged Albel. Cerberus smiled. Warriors respected other warriors, and acknowledgement was necessary. But this happiness was short lived.

With a mighty crash, the wall on one end of the chamber collapsed, and creatures that would make even the many races of the Covanent look normal appeared. They were even bigger than the Lesiri warrior and walked in unnatural, almost strained strides. They had scythe-like tentacles for arms, and peanuts for brains: Some of them were walking into crates.

(A/N: Ever observed this A.I. script bug in Halo? The Flood walk into walls!)

"What are they?" asked Albel.

"They're the Flood. The enemies of all who draw breath, and of all who are honorable," replied Cerberus, as he readied his blade, "Run now human. They are too numerous. It is my job to guard this door from the Flood and I shall, even if it means against superior numbers, and till death."

"So you were guarding the door against these?" asked Albel.

"Yeah, you though I had all the time in the world to wait here to challenge you? No way. Now run, quickly," said Cerberus.

"What? Albel the Wicked doesn't run from a fight maggot," complained Albel.

"I said go! Now! They are too many!" commanded Cerberus.

"Doesn't matter how many maggots there are. I'll kill them all!" yelled Albel as he charged forward slashing with his claw.

Cerberus was quick to join in the fray, incapacitating several at a time with a mighty swing of his blade.

"Aren't there too many, worm? Why not you run?" teased Albel.

"I can't let you get all the glory can I?" replied Cerberus with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

Yet despite the heroics, overwhelming numbers and fatigue from the previous duel soon caught up with both warriors. Albel had escaped with few injuries because he was faster and had a lighter weapon, but Cerberus was seriously injured, having to lug his heavy blade around. He had been lashed several times by the tentacles of the Flood, and wouldn't last very long.

Sensing that the situation was against them, Albel grabbed the weakened Cerberus and dragged him out the door which the Lesiri had so zealously guarded. He then slammed it shut, a few seconds before the Flood crashed against it. The door was strong, but it wouldn't hold for very long.

"My time is nearly up human. But there is one thing I need to do before I pass on," Cerberus reached for a nearby chest, opened it and brought out a strange blade, "This is the symbol of the First Deathdealer of the Lesiri: The Gunblade. Before every Deathdealer dies, he passes his weapon on to his chosen successor. Then he dies with honor. Take it."

"I can't…" Albel protested.

"TAKE IT!" demanded Cerberus, before coughing black blood. Cautiously, Albel took the gunblade. It was shaped like a standard katana, with a single edge. However, it was slightly thicker as it flowed to the base. At the handle was a trigger, which lead up to a barrel, forming part of the blade.

"Now that I have passed it on, I can leave with honor," said Cerberus, as the light of life slowly left his eyes.

"For honor warrior, I shall wield your blade. For honor, I shall bear your burden. May the winds carry you swiftly to your ancestors warrior," said Albel, as he gave the dead warrior a crisp salute before turning about.

"Those Flood maggots are gonna be crying to their mamas when Wicked Boy's through with them."

* * *

The Flood had been guarding the door, awaiting the two life forms to emerge. They could fee the presence of them behind the doors, they could taste the fear and anxiety. They were overwhelmed with bloodlust, to do what they were supposed to do: to kill. 

Then, in a sudden turn of events, the doors were flung open. Out strode the smaller life form, alone. And he looked prepared.

Nonetheless, they would dispose of him. Using their conventional, in-built instinctive tactic, they surrounded him before jumping at him all at once, from all directions.

Albel sensed that the Flood would use this tactic. It was remotely similar to the tactic used by the indigenous beasts of the Elicoorian Mountains. And he was prepared.

_Time to test this baby out. _

And his first victim: the one directly on top of him. With a quick flash of steel, the Flood combat form was cleanly sliced into two symmetrical bits, each one then crashing harmlessly onto the floor of the chamber, spewing greenish gore all over the gleamy metal floor.

Each Flood minion lashed out at him with one of their tentacles, which he easily swatted away with his steel claw-arm, before slicing into their exposed torsos. The Gunblade, though alien to him at first, had now progressed from being a mere weapon. It was part of him, like an extension of his arm. A deadly extension.

More Flood raced through the hole in the wall, each one blindly charging at the lone human warrior, but Albel kept them all at bay with effortless precision parries and deadly counter-attacks. It was as if he had gained a sudden boost in speed and was able to use his claw and knock one of them off its feet before slicing into its flesh.

Several more charged out of the hole in the wall.

_Time to end this!_

With a loud warcry, he charged forth, wildly slashing away at the Flood combat forms, giving them little time to realize they were slashed, let alone react. Then, at the end of his charge, he took a few seconds to catch his breath, before turning around to admire his handiwork. The Flood minions who had tried in vain to stop him were either lying on the floor in pieces, or crawling around trying to find their other half.

Cerberus had been avenged.

Then, the door, originally sealed off by Cerberus, crashed open, and several Brutes entered the room, only to see the lone Albel standing amongst the dead bodies of the Flood.

"I don't believe it, this human killed all the Flood?" gasped one of the brutes; then noticing Cerberus' limp body in the next room, "And Cerberus?"

"Don't care, FIRE!" commanded the Captain.

Plasma bolts screeched out of the barrels of their plasma rifles, adding to the death and damage in the room. Finally, when the firing died down, the human was nowhere to be seen.

"He's probably been vaporized, let's go finish off the others," said the Captain of the squad.

_

* * *

Finish off the others? That means those maggots might have survived. I better go check it out…_Thought Albel, as he slowly emerged from his cover behind several crates. _If I can't get that stupid Alteration Gene Techie-expert maggot to work the communicators, I can dream on about leaving this rock._

As he was about to leave, one of the Flood combat forms twitched behind him. Spinning around, he flicked the switch on his Gunblade that retracted the blade, exposing the barrel. Then, he squeezed the trigger, sending a hail of lead into the body of the minion, effectively erasing all life from it.

_God I can get used to this._

* * *

A/N: There you have it, Miss Nox. You wanted Albel, you get Albel. One whole chapter (or most of it) dedicated to the Wicked boy. Hope this makes you wanna start spamming that review button. 

Master out.


	6. Into the Fray

Disclaimer: You know the drill…

* * *

A/N: Hey, I've got a question. What color are Maria's eyes? Please tell me they're not the same color as Fayt's…

* * *

Chapter 6: Into the Fray

_A horde of horribly disfigured, misshapen creatures surrounded them. Fayt held his arm out in an attempt to defend a kneeling Maria from the oncoming swarm. Behind them, a Covenant Phantom was going through its final stages of lift-off, the engines flaring to life and propelling the craft off the ground._

"_Go, Maria! I'll hold them off!" Fayt shouted as he hauled Maria to her feet and pushed her to the waiting dropship, but Maria resisted and shoved his arm away._

"_No! I'm not leaving you behind!" she shouted, planting a shot in the chest of one of the creatures, putting it down._

"_No time for arguments, just go! We don't have a lot of time left, and only I can hold them off!" Fayt lopped off the head of one of the creatures and cut open the chest of another._

"_I won't!" Maria protested again._

_Fayt rounded on her furiously. "Just go, damn it! You want to die here with me?"_

"_Better that than live the rest of my life full of regrets that I didn't stay behind!" She shot back with a defiant look on her face._

_The look of fury on Fayt's countenance softened, replaced by one of puzzlement._

"…_Why?" He finally said._

_Maria opened her mouth to reply, but before she could utter a word, a massive jerk suddenly pulled Fayt off his feet and flung him off the ground…

* * *

_

This was the second time Fayt was being jerked out of his sleep, this time with a jolt so strong that he was flung out of bed, coming to a hard landing on the deck.

"What the hell! Did something just hit us?" Cliff quickly sat up on his bunk, his eyes darting about wildly.

"Move it! Let's get to the bridge!" Fayt quickly picked himself up, taking a moment to grab the Levantine and Mythril Sword and sheath them before he rushed out the door with Cliff and Adray. They bumped into Sergeant Baxter, Major Harrison and the Master Chief on their way out.

"We've just exited Slipspace, and right in the middle of a space battle! It looks like we've arrived at the Delta Halo, but the strange thing is that the Covenant ships are firing upon each other!" Major Harrison stopped for a moment to catch his breath.

"What? Does that mean that some of the Covenant have gone rogue?" Fayt asked.

"Most probably. From the looks of the transmissions we've managed to intercept from the Covenant fleets, it seems that there's a civil war going on. The Elites, Grunts and Hunters are on one side and the Brutes, Jackals, Drones and Prophets on the other." Major Harrison was talking so fast that he had to draw in one long breath before he could continue.

"Like that's got anything to do with us! Let's hurry up and get to the bridge!" Cliff said before he started tearing down the corridor.

* * *

Chewing on imaginary steel nails – though he probably wouldn't have noticed if he'd had actual hardware between his molars – Captain Wallace sat upright in his command chair of the UNSC _Marathon-class_ cruiser _Reynolds_. He was ready for action, and so were his men. He had ordered them so. 

They had an alien ring world to visit and fellow UNSC personnel to rescue from that world. If they were lucky, the mission might turn out to be even more than that.

He knew better than to rally his troops by making gruff and patriotic speeches in a misguided attempt to fire them up enough to put their lives on the line for the UNSC. He knew the right carrot to dangle when he wanted to inspire troops to give him their personal best.

"Ring world Delta Halo on screen, Captain." Said Lieutenant Scott from the tactical station. 'I'm extending our sensor net, Captain. Scanning ahead for enemy vessels…"

Wallace gave the young officer a smug look, raising both eyebrows. "I figure our fleet of this cruiser, five destroyers and seven frigates can pretty much take care of any little opposition we'll encounter way out here, Lieutenant. This place is in the middle of nowhere! Why would the Covenant be here in the first place?"

"Sir! Enemy vessels!" the Lieutenant shouted, double-checking his tactical readouts as the human fleet homed in on the Delta Halo.

On the screen he displayed a full analysis of what lurked high above the ring world. The soldiers on board the _Reynolds_ and muttered in surprise.

Wallace clenched his jaw and leaned forward. "What the hell… Covenant shooting at each other? Well, that just makes things easier for me!" he recognized the smooth-shelled, shark-like shape of the Covenant's various vessels, be they carriers, cruisers, destroyers etc.

"Power up the fleet's MAC guns," he said. "We'll go in and ring their bells before anybody even knows we were here."

Captain Wallace smiled and knotted his hands together as if a scrawny Jackal's throat were clenched between them. "All right, men." He broadcasted through the long corridors of the cruiser. "Let's go kick some alien ass!"

* * *

The party entered the bridge with the two marines and the spartanin tow just as Captain Wallace finished his announcement. The major, sergeant and the Master Chief stepped forward and snapped a crisp salute to the captain. 

"At ease, gentlemen. You're about to witness space combat at its finest." The Captain said to them before he turned back to the view screen.

From the images that were displayed on the view screens, the party could easily see that the Covenant was tearing itself apart from the inside.

An Elite's carrier launched forth several waves of Banshee gliders that sought out and attacked all of the Brutes' ships within reach. At first the tiny one-man craft were like a swarm of stinging insects, concentrating on the Brutes' massive carriers. Nearby, they made quick work of the smaller Shadow bombers, whose onboard plasma torpedoes would have been devastating against capital ships but who were almost defenseless against snub fighters. The Banshees moved fast, striking, destroying, then searching for new targets.

Seeing the carnage, the loss of numerous carriers and Shadows, a group of the Brutes' own banshees broke through and attacked one of the Elite's cruisers. The Brute pilots were very much differentfrom their Elite counterparts. They attacked recklessly but determinedly, and they careened forward into the Elite's carrier with plasma cannons blazing until they slammed against the hull of the massive craft, exploding on impact and sacrificing themselves to take out an opposing alien vessel.

As the alien firefight continued in orbit, Captain Wallace narrowed his eyes. He waited for a moment, watching the destruction, and then a smile crept over his face. "Attention, all ships!" Captain Wallace's booming voice broadcast through all thirteen human vessels. "Battle stations! We're gonna come in with all guns blazing and let them alien bastards have it!

Lieutenant Scott watched the frenzy on his tactical screen. "Sir, shouldn't we wait, send in some reconnaissance to gather tactical data before we make our move?"

The captain gestured towards the screen. "You can see with your own eyes, Lieutenant – and I've never been one to sit on my hindquarters gathering background information when it's time for _action._"

He rose from his hard command chair, knowing that standing would give him a more powerful leadership presence. And just for kicks, he added a forward arm-wave for some drama, ordering his all of his ships forward.

With the _Reynolds_ in the vanguard, the human fleet plunged into the fray.

* * *

When Captain Wallace's ships plowed into the space battle above the Delta Halo, it reminded him of an expert break in a game of billiards. 

Covenant craft on both sides scattered in all directions, reeling from the sudden strike of the unexpected human forces. Captain Wallace broadcast no warnings and requested no surrenders, just ordered his ships to inflict all the damage possible on the aliens.

He cheered silently inside as the first shots were fired.

The MAC guns blasted quickly, taking out Covenant frigates and a badly damaged cruiser. Before the large projectile weapons could recharge their capacitors for another shot, Captain Wallace launched his full fleet of impressively maneuverable Longsword interceptors.

He paced the bridge of his ship, keeping an eye on the tactical displays, getting updates from Lieutenant Scott and occasionally watching the battle through the viewport windows.

The Longswords launched from the human fleet immediately activated their radar cloaking before engaging a group of harried Seraph fighters. The alien ships had superior air-to-air firepower, as the UNSC knew from previous engagements, but the Seraphs were obviously at a disadvantage against an adversary they could not detect with the radar that they were normally reliant on.

The Longswords pounded them, damaging their shields and hulls, taking out a handful of the vessels with their missiles. After heavy pummeling from the human weapons, the Seraph fighters retreated, inadvertently passing close to a mass of opposing Banshees that completed the slaughter by letting loose with their fuel rod cannons, expelling blasts of greenish radioactive energy that was very similar to the ones that Fayt and his party had avoided before back on the Covenant vessel they had first landed on.

The Seraph fighters were doomed.

Their work done, the Longswords streaked off to engage more alien targets.

From the bridge of the _Reynolds_, Captain Wallace raised his fist with a shout, cheering the victory. The bridge officers, along with the two marines and Fayt's party applauded. The Master Chief remained silent, standing still as a statue.

"Our MAC gun capacitors are recharged and ready to fire, sir." Lieutenant Scott said. He tapped a voice receiver in his ear and acknowledged, then turned to look at the captain. "The destroyer _Napoleon _also says their MAC is ready to fire again."

"Good. Let's target the same Covenant ship." The captain said. He stared at the broad selection of targets on the tactical screen. Dancing his fingers through the air, he muttered, "Eenie, Meenie, Minee, Mo," and jabbed his index finger forward. "_That _one."

"Targeting, sir," Lieutenant Scott said. He opened a link to the _Napoleon_. On cue, both human warships fired their powerful Magnetic Accelerator Cannons, intense magnetic fields focusing power to launch a super-dense ferric tungsten shell that obliterated most ships on impact. The concentrated onslaught hammered through the Covenant carrier's shields. Within seconds, the carrier's hull failed and the giant alien vessel exploded.

Captain Wallace let out another victorious hoot. "Who'd have thought those things could have come in so many different pieces!" Next he watched the Longswords take out four more Seraph fighters. He rubbed his stubby hands together and looked around the bridge. "I think we can pretty much rest assured of a victory here, men."

Cliff frowned and took a closer look at the tactical display. "That's a bit of a premature assumption, don't you think, Captain?"

Two Covenant cruisers moved towards Captain Wallace's thirteen clustered ships. Their lateral lines glowed for several seconds, bloodred light pooling until it was a solid band. They brightened until they finally burst forth; four teardrops of ruby light, each five meters long, streaked towards the human fleet.

The human vessels scattered, but the inbound balls of light, the Covenant's plasma torpedoes, matched their movements, tracking their ships.

The plasma torpedoes slammed into three of the human's vessels; half of them fried couple of frigates while the other two gutted a destroyer. In a single salvo, already one quarter of the human forces had been destroyed.

"Damn! Get some of our boarding craft out there! We might not be able to take them out from the outside, but we can tear them apart from the inside!" Wallace turned to Major Harrison. "Major, get your men into the boarding craft! Time to let the Marines strut their stuff."

The major saluted sharply. "Yes sir!" He turned around to address Sergeant Baxter and the party.

"Sergeant, get your men prepped and ready for action! I want them ready for boarding in ten minutes!" Baxter promptly acknowledged this order and exited this bridge with the Master Chief. Harrison turned to the party. "Well, I know you guys are practically thirsty for Covenant blood, so I guess you can join in the 'fun' as well."

"Oh yeah! I was wondering when we'd get around to this!" Cliff whooped.

Lieutenant Scott suddenly piped up from his station, "Sir, you may want to delay that boarding order first, captain. We've got some guests of our own." He indicated on the tactical display the dozens of Covenant Phantoms that were headed straight for them.

Captain Wallace growled as he stared at the tactical screen, realizing that his forces may be in for a tougher fight than he had counted on.

* * *

"Get ready guys! We' re about to have company!" Fayt shouted as he pulled out both the Levantine and his Mythril Sword, holding them out in ready positions. He stood at one of the airlocks with Cliff, Sophia, while Adray and Peppita were standing guard at another on the other, with marines backing them up at both positions. 

Sophia was more or less able to keep herself upright. She had just gotten out of the infirmary with only half of her treatment finished, and she had her left arm in a cast with bandages wrapped firmly around her forehead, right leg and her midsection as well. Fayt had insisted that she stick with him in case she pushed herself too far and ended up worsening her injuries.

Looking out the viewport, Cliff could easily see at least half a dozen boarding craft headed straight for the _Reynolds_. He quickly did the math in his head; one dropship meant roughly about a dozen troops, and if there were six dropships out there, then that meant that they had roughly about seventy-two enemy troops to deal with.

Seventy-two might be rough for them, unless…

"Fayt, if you've been thinking about pulling off that stunt with your Gene again, now would be a good time." Cliff said as the Phantoms neared the airlocks.

Fayt nodded and began to concentrate, reaching inside of himself for the power he needed. At first he felt nothing, but quickly realized that he was using the wrong method to summon it. He was trying to call upon it the same way he did for Ethereal Blast.

He then remembered that he had been overcome by rage when he had first used his Valor Form, and he realized that these powers were commanded by emotions, not by willpower.

He corrected his mistake just in time. As the first Phantom docked and the Covenant troops started bustling out of the airlock, Fayt focused on utilizing his anger against the Covenant and felt that familiar wave of heat roll over him. The heat felt much less intense this time, and this came as quite a surprise to the bluenette, albeit a pleasant one. The rush of strength that he received however, had not diminished one bit from last time, and that was what counted.

His clothes once again changed from black to a bright red, and Fayt leapt forward into the fray, transforming into a flurry of slashing motions.

Just like back in the tunnel on Earth, the Covenant didn't stand a chance. The Jackals feebly attempted the protect themselves with their energy shields, which the Destruction Blades sliced through like paper, and the Brutes that attempted to throttle him instead found themselves slashed open from collar to codpiece. The dead bodies of the Covenant piled high around the embodiment of primal fury as Fayt continued to unleash hisrage upon the alien attackers.

But Fayt got too caught up in his rush of near invincibility, and he never noticed his movements slowing, the frequency of his attacks diminishing, until it was too late.

It all happened too quickly for Sophia to keep track of. One moment Fayt had been jumping and leaping from place to place, causing wanton destruction and wholesale carnage, and the next his clothes suddenly reverted back to black, the Destruction Blades in his hands winked out of existence, and he was tackled to the ground by a group of Brutes.

Fayt had chosen the worst possible time for his Valor Form to run out of steam.

Cliff saw this and, shouting a denial, he fell upon the Brutes with a terrible fury. He grabbed one Brute's head, slammed it into another's with a sickening crack, and jumped on another, snapping its neck. He continued attacking in berserker frenzy, his anger allowing his strength to match up to the Brutes' for just a few moments.

Once the immediate area had been cleared of all enemies, Cliff snatched up the bruised and bleeding bluenette's body and hauled him back to where Sophia was waiting.

"Is he hurt badly?" Sophia looked ready to cry as she started to prepare a healing symbol to repair the damage that her brother-like childhood friend had sustained.

"I don't know. I can only hope that those Brutes didn't beat him up too much. Let's hope to God that his injuries aren't too severe…" Cliff got to his feet and disappeared down the corridors for a moment, before returning with two Jackhammer rocket launchers hefted on his shoulders. "Stay here and take care of Fayt. These two babies I got from the armory are just what the doctor ordered for those goddamned aliens."

The group of Jackals that were harassing a squad of marines suddenly found their formations being blown apart as the Jackhammer rockets flew right in and detonated, sending pieces of Jackal flying in all directions and compensating for the destruction that Fayt had failed to inflict with his suddenly-cut-off Valor Trigger.

Three reloads and six rockets later, three-quarters of the Covenant boarders had been neutralized, but even so, the losses were more severe than back on the Cairo without Fayt and the others to help out.

_And so just where the hell is Fayt when you need him?_ Cliff wondered as he ditched the empty rocket launchers and jumped forward, crushing a Brute with a Hammer of Might attack. Just as he landed to recover, another Brute popped out of nowhere and seized him by his neck, lifting him up into the air. The Brute bellowed in rage, and drops of spittle splattered over Cliff's face. Tightening its hold on Cliff's neck, it began to squeeze.

Cliff began to struggle, clawing at the arms that held him up, but the tendons in the Brute's arms were like solid bands of steel. He kicked at the Brute's midsection, but the alien merely flinched slightly and continued squeezing.

Cliff could already feel his windpipe swell and he started to gag. _Well, looks like Lights Out for Cliff Fittir. Sorry about leaving so soon, Mirage… _Cliff thought to himself as he prepared to die.

Suddenly, the Brute roared in pain and released its hold on his neck. Cliff fell the ground, gasping for breath. He looked up just in time to see Fayt yanktheDivine Avengerout of the Brute's back and chop its head off with a quick swing from the Veinslay.

"You alright, Cliff?" Fayt asked as he helped the blonde up to his feet.

"Yeah. Thanks for the save… Look out!" Cliff shoved Fayt aside just as the overcharged plasma bolt was about to hit Fayt square in the back.

The bolt slammed into Cliff instead, and he reeled backwards, the reflective coating of his battered ablative armor flaring. "Oww…"

"Cliff!" Fayt immediately rounded on the Jackal that had fired the plasma bolt, hacking it into little pieces before he turned back to Cliff.

The blonde was leaning back against a nearby bulkhead, holding his midsection in pain.

"I'm tired of having to take plasma bolts for you, kid." Cliff grinned at him, but his teeth were gritted in pain.

"Get back to Sophia. She should be able to do something about that burn." Fayt put a hand on Cliff's shoulder. "Don't keep running around with injuries like those, ok? I don't want you to end up like her…"

"Don't worry. I'll go get patched up. But don't finish the fight without me!" Cliff started limping back to the first aid station.

Fayt nodded and turned back to the battle, assisting the marines in any way he could.

* * *

The Master Chief, who was known to his late Spartans as John, watched as Fayt Leingod once again threw himself into the battle. The boy fought with the skill of a ten-year war veteran, yet his youth also caused him to act in the impulsive manner in which most adolescents and young, inexperienced men did. 

The Spartan leader found the teenager to be very intriguing. Apart from him and his fellow Spartans, nobody elsehe knew of had taken part in military activities at an age as young as Fayt's. It amazed him that someone who wasn't a Spartan could still manage to accomplish such great feats that no typical human would even attempt.

But even his thoughts did not distract him from covering his own ass. He sidestepped, dodging a Jackal's plasma bolt, and promptly returned fire with his SMGs. The Jackal screamed as the bullets punched through its body and exited from the other side. The Jackal's lifeless body clattered to the floor.

John continued firing his SMGs in short, controlled bursts, and he was rewarded with five dead Jackals and a badly mutilated Brute. He tossed aside the empty weapons and pulled out his shotgun, at the same time priming a grenade and tossing it into the alien horde. The resulting explosion took out several of the aliens, and injured a score more. One unlucky Jackal was blown right in front of him, and it dazedly raised its head to look up at him.

The Master Chief racked the slide of his shotgun and shoved the barrel in the Jackal's face. The bird-like alien was just beginning to realise the gravity of its situation when John pulled the trigger and blew the Jackal's brains out the back of its head.

He pumped his shotgun again, ejecting the empty shell, and suddenly a trio of Jackals leapt onto him and latched onto his shoulders and neck. He felt a strange sense of deja vu, concerning a trio of grunts aboard the Pillar of Autumn and a very similar incident, but he had no time to worry about that. At first the Jackal's efforts were almsot laughable, but now he realised that the one sitting on his neck was trying to remove his helmet, the one clinging onto his left arm had an overcharged plasma pistol levelled at his head, and the one on his right arm carried an ignited plasma grenade.

The skinny bastards meant to drop the explosive down into his armor and fry his face with a plasma shot. Well, no chance of that happening. The Master Chief braced and shook himself like a dog. The Jackals lost their grip and were sent flying, and he quickly put them down with several decisive blasts from his shotgun.

With that little distraction taken care of, John turned to more pressing matters, like assisting the squad of marines that were pinned down by a line of Brutes.

* * *

After ten minutes of fighting, the party gathered in the cruiser's briefing room with the captain, John, Baxter and Harrison, all exhausted from the extensive fighting except for the captain, who looked immaculate. 

"So what now?" Peppita spoke from her lounging position on the chair.

"It looks like the situation on the ground has worsened. We've just received a transmission from Commander Keyes, saying that they've _somehow _managed to forge an alliance with the Elites, Grunts and Hunters. Anyway, they've holed themselves up in a structure called the Library, but they're under heavy assault by some enemy they call 'The Flood'. Here's a recording of the transmission." Captain Wallace pressed the button for the holographic display, and an image winked to life on the holotank.

It showed Commander Keyes facing the screen with a rather harrowed expression on her face. "Captain Wallace, youhave to send down an extraction team ASAP! The Flood are now coming in even greater numbers and – GET DOWN MARIA!"

Fayt's countenance paled visibly at this statement. The screen shook as a loud explosion sounded off to the side. Commander Keyes ducked out of view for a few moments before reappearing, this time with a half-conscious Maria's arm slung over her shoulder. Maria's forehead had a nasty gash on it, and there were multiple dents and slash marks on her chest armor. Blood oozed out from the sections of her body armor that had been breached.

Commander Keyes started to speak again. "It's only a matter of time before our defenses collapse! We only have minutes left! I repeat, get an extraction team down and get us the hell out of here!" The video stopped playing, and the screen faded to black.

Captain Wallace turned back to the group, his expression grim.

"Well, I believe the transmission speaks for itself the need to get down there ASAP. We've got three Pelicans waiting in the hangar to bring you groundside. You know what to do."

* * *

Fayt held onto the handlebars at the sides of the Pelican dropship's hatch with a white-knuckled grip. He was too tense to strap himself onto one of the crash seats, though the rest of the party and a bunch of marines along with Baxter and Harrison had all seated themselves and had secured themselves onto the seats. The only other person who wasn't sitting down was the Master Chief, and he stood next to Fayt, holding onto another handlebar. 

Fayt just couldn't stop worrying about Maria. After seeing her half-conscious and badly injured, his heart rate had spiked as though it had just hit a bump in the road. And his heart's racing hadn't slowed even as they descended into the Delta Halo's atmosphere.

"Hey pilot! Are we there yet?" Fayt yelled towards the cockpit over the roar of the wind against the hatch.

Cliff sighed. "Fayt, that's the third time you've asked that. Just relax! I swear you're acting like Peppita!"

"I do not!" Peppita cried out.

"Whatever, girl…" Cliff waved her away.

An alarm suddenly blared, and the dropship banked sharply to the left. Though the Master Chief was hardly fazed by this, Fayt was nearly thrown off his feet, and only his death grip on the handlebar kept him where he was.

"Hang on, people! We're taking heavy fire from Jackal artillery! Evasive maneuvers now!" The dropship banked sharply again, this time to the right, and Fayt started to wish that he had buckled himself down to start with.

The dropship started to shake like a dog, and everybody inside got so rattled that Fayt felt like his teeth were going to come loose from his gums.

After several minutes of teeth-loosening shaking, the dropship finally steadied.

"Phew. Glad that's over." Fayt muttered under his breath.

Then, an explosion sounded, and the deck fell out from beneath Fayt's feet. Shouting out in surprise, he barely managed to catch onto the handlebar that he had been previously clinging on to.

"Leingod!" John reached out with his left hand while never releasing his grip on the handlebar with his right. Fayt stretched out his arm, attempting to grab onto the Master Chief's gauntlet, but his fingers fumbled and he fell back towards the hole in the Pelican's hull, his grip on the handle bar slipping a few precious inches.

Fayt was unable to hold on any longer. "Ah, _shit!_ Heellpp…" Those were his last words before he let go of the handlebar and plunged through the hole, into the darkness beyond.

"FAYT!" Sophia looked ready to unbuckle herself from the crash seat just to leap through the hole after her childhood friend, but Cliff set a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head.

Her eyes brimming with unshed tears; Sophia tore her gaze away from the hole in the Pelican's hull.

"I'm losing control of her! We'll be crash landing near our target, but we'll have to hump the rest of the way on foot! Oh crap, brace for impact!" the pilot yelled before a massive jerk slammed Sophia's head into the wall behind her and knocked her out, filling her world with darkness and bringing her to blessed oblivion.

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope you guys are happy. Sorry if it seemes a little rushed, but I never really did any in-depth planning for this particular chapter. Anyway, I cannot emphasize this simple fact enough: REVIEW! You should leave a mark so that at least the writer knows that you've read the story. And to all the die-hard Albel fans out there: Reviews are the Master's source of motivation. So if you want to see Albel consistently kicking ass, then review! 

Chief out.


	7. Chaos' Warm Welcome

Disclaimer: I don't own…you know the rest…

* * *

A/N: Back to Albel's group…And if anyone's wondering, Albel's Gunblade is based more on the sleek Final Fantasy 13 one instead of the bulkier Final Fantasy 8 one. 

A/N 2: Just a few changes I'm gonna be making to Fayt's outfit and his Trigger Forms. While in Normal Form, his shirt will have red spearpoint designs on the sleeves, his pants will have blue flame designs, his vest will be adorned with a number of yellow crosses, his gloves will have black dragon symbols on them, and his symbol pendant will have an added wing design. In Valor Form, his hair turns red as well. Same thing goes for the other forms: blue hair in Wisdom, yellow hair in Master, etc.

* * *

Chapter 6: Chaos' Warm Welcome 

The room was dark and creepy, the only light source coming from a small light atop a strange alien pedestal. Each of Albel's footsteps echoed throughout the room, which seemingly stretched endlessly in all directions. Darkness, fear, doubt, anxiety…the perfect place for those Flood aliens to ambush a man. Almost too perfect a place.

Not that Albel gave a damn anyway. His Gunblade, dyed with a deep hue of greenish ichor, was testament to that. Several had tried to ambush him earlier, meeting an identical fate to the many men, dragons, executioners and aliens that had foolishly tried to rally against the captain of the Black Brigade. He was ready for what each corner brought, ready for the new challenges that lay ahead of him. Except for maybe one.

Shrouded by darkness, Albel was unable to seethe great metal door ahead of him. Instead of stopping, like most ordinary men would do, he walked _straight into it…_

"Ouch, dammit…Holy Mary mother of Christ," cursed Albel out loud as he stumbled backwards into the darkness. Leaning against what felt like a wall, he reached out and felt something that he had previously never though off.

_Great, smart old me didn't even bother to look for a light switch…_

With the simple flick of the switch, what was previously an abyss of darkness suddenly flooded with light. Looking around, he realized that there was only one way forward: through that door that lay before him. Not a problem, he'd knocked down plenty of doors before, this shouldn't pose as much of a challenge.

Approaching the door, he gently tapped it with his sharp metal finger, and then listened for the vibration. None. It was pretty thick all right. Stepping back to think for a while, he then retreated several steps before surging forth, then leapt into the air and slammed his right foot into the steel door.

Still no effect.

Angered, he reached for his Gunblade, upholstered it and was about to give the damned door a piece of his mind; A nice big violent piece on the form of a shower of lead. Then, a voice from behind stopped him.

"Yoo-hoo!"

It was a high pitched voice, so high it was nearly comical and laughable. It was as if it was from a…

_A clown! _

Albel stood in disbelief. Standing a few feet behind him was a clown, dressed in a garb of purple complete with a jester's hat and a magic wand. He had dark purple eyeliner and lipstick, a face powdered white, and a huge, pointy nose.

"There's no need to use violence, boy!" said the clown in a taunting way as he approached.

"You see, this thing here," he continued, tapping his wand on the door, "Is very sturdy you see. Your little tricks would do no good. NO GOOD!" he thrust his head low, to emphasize his point, only to stare down the barrel of the Gunblade.

"Quiet maggot, or I'll pierce that big nose," threatened Albel.

"Wait, wait!" pleaded the clown, was he suddenly jerked himself upright and placed a hand over Albel's shoulder, "Why don't you hear me out, you've got nothing to loose eh?"

Convinced, Albel lowered the Gunblade.

"My name is Jester! And I know a thing or two about this place," Jester introduced, bowing low, "This thing here is a power generator for the entire sector! In order to open something, you need to do something. Can you figure that out boy? Or is it too big for your puny brain!"

Angered, Albel raised his Gunblade once more and started a wild hail of lead aimed at the feet of the clown, causing him to start jumping about comically in an attempt to dodge the bullets, "Quit joking worm, or do you want to keep on dancing?"

When the ammunition clip got exhausted, Jester was finally able to get a breather. Bending over, he panted heavily and used his wand as a fan. Then, hearing the click of a barrel getting loaded, he suddenly straightened up again.

"Actually," he grinned slyly, "I prefer a sword to be my partner. May I have this dance milady?" he extended his hand and bowed, taunting Albel further.

_He wants a sword, he gets a sword!_ Fumed Albel as he flicked the switch which extended the Gunblade's lethal edge. Then, he slammed it down onto Jester's bent over body, only to watch as the clown disappeared from sight. Instead, his blade slammed against the lighted pedestal. The whole room then started shaking violently, and the gargantuan steel door slowly opened.

"Bingo! That's what that something is!" yelled Jester, re-appearing behind Albel, this time he was standing on the ceiling, "Remember that, kid! Write it down on your hand if you don't trust your head," his latest remarks earned him a hail of lead aimed at his legs again, forcing him into the same wild dance as before. Slowly, still dancing, he disappeared into the darkness that was of the corridor.

"I see, thanks. You still piss me off though."

* * *

Thanks to Jester, Albel was finally able to exit the strange dark corridor, and entered another series of corridors which looked well-lit, and more similar in design to those he passed before his duel with Cerberus. He was contemplating whether to enter what appeared to be an armory, when the sounds of a fight lure him to what appeared to be some sort of viewing gallery or balcony. Peering downwards, he saw a team of Brutes chasing after a human. A woman. Nel. 

Despite being severely outnumbered and outgunned, and visibly injured, Nel was holding her own quite well. Swerving in and out of the many lanes of crates that littered the storehouse, she was able to avoid getting his by the plasma bolts of the Brutes' rifles, while always knocking some kind of hindrance to them, like emptying a crate of its contents or knocking over a shelf onto her pursuers.

She had great stamina, skill, and had a reputation to be as hard to catch as a shadow. He knew this all too well. It took him and his men several hours on dragons to catch two of her subordinates on foot. If the standard operatives of the Crimson Blades were so hard to catch, the leader would be much harder. And she had not disappointed him.

Once, a plasma bolt brushed past her thigh, causing her to crumple to the floor, but she found her footing fast, and took care of the two pursuing Brutes with quick stabs under her armpits.

But she would definitely get caught. There were too many Brutes.

True to his guess, Nel was soon surrounded by the Brutes, who slowly closed the distance between them and her, rifles leveled. Then, slowly, they shot at her, burning her but not killing her. Nel screamed in pain as she fell to the floor helpless against the superior numbers of aliens who took pleasure in inflicting pain onto her, and laugh heartily after each of her tortured screams.

As much as Albel wanted to help her, a wounded woman would only serve to hinder him in his bid for escape. He was about to turn and go when a voice from the other side of the room stopped him.

"She is human too. And you're not going to save her?" questioned the voice.

Shocked, Albel spun around to the direction of the voice. In the corner of the room, also viewing the battle was a huge figure shrouded in darkness. The figure then turned to face Albel as approached. It was an Elite.

"Who are you?" asked Albel, hand on the hilt of his Gunblade.

"I am the Arbiter, and I come in peace, so I would appreciate if you dropped the aggressive stance," answered the Elite. Hearing this, Albel relaxed, but still didn't buy the Elite's bid for peace.

"I'll never understand humans. They can do such sacrificial acts for the ones they care for, but they can do such atrocities towards others they hate. What say you human?" the Arbiter queried.

_Sacrifice, love, care for…_Albel's heart started beating rapidly. For some reason, he was unwilling to see Nel die. His heart ached every time he heard her scream. He wanted to tear his ears off in order to be spared from the pain of hearing the woman, who has once upon a time caused so much trouble for him.

_Why the hell am I feeling like this? I'm "Wicked" damnit! What's warm and fuzzy gotta do with that?_

Then, although his brain and every muscle in his body wanted to turn around and walk off, his heart caused him to turn back. With a poker-face, he turned to the Arbiter and said "Actually, I happened to be acquainted with that woman," before dashing into the fray.

"By the Gods…I'll never understand humans," muttered the Arbiter under his breath as he ignited his plasma sword and rushed to join the human warrior.

* * *

The several Brutes were short work for Albel and the Arbiter. Not only were they taken by surprise, they were up against two seasoned veterans, and they had also ditched most of their heavy gear in an attempt to keep up with Nel. 

But Nel was in bad shape. She had plasma burns all over her body, and had bleeding wounds everywhere else. Slumped on the floor, she could barely move, let alone stand.

"Stay with me you goddamned maggot!" yelled Albel as he tried to pull her onto her feet.

"Leave me…go help the rest…" replied Nel weakly before passing out.

"Stupid worm I'm not leav-" Albel was cut off by a palm on his shoulder.

"I'll take her to a medical facility. You go help the rest of your comrades," suggested the Arbiter.

"Okay, I'll trust you. But if she loses a single hair I'll skin your goddamned maggot butt and roast it for lunch," threatened Albel, as he reluctantly passed the limp body of Nel over to the Arbiter.

Then, both warriors turned their backs on each other, each one rushing to a different location, but with the same objective: to save someone else's life.

* * *

By the time Albel reached the place where Nel had left the party, he expected them to be toast, but to his surprise, rather unpleasant surprise but to his surprise anyways, they were still alive and kicking. Squads of Brutes and Jackals had them totally surrounded and pinned down with firepower. They had only survived because of Maria. 

Albel had seen this before. Using her powers of alteration, she had altered the carbon atoms in the air, in the form of carbon dioxide, into its solid form: diamond, creating an almost impenetrable wall of sheer strength. But all Albel had seen her do was manipulating a small amount of diamond. On such a large scale, and for such a long time, it was pretty much nothing short of a miracle they lasted this long.

But Albel knew all too well the weakness of this formation. Diamond is the hardest material in the universe, the only thing able to cut it being another diamond. However, the wall needed Maria to focus her energy in order for it to remain. Once Maria no longer had enough energy, or once her concentration was broken, the wall dissipated back into its original compounds.

Despite Maria's valiant efforts, the mammoth task of keeping the immense diamond wall up was too taxing on her, and she collapsed in exhaustion. Without the power of the alteration gene, the diamond wall quickly crumbled and the Covanent warriors prepared to take their kill.

"On my mark," signaled the commander, "Five, four, three, two, one…"

But the command for fire was never given. Reason being that Albel had lobbed his head off in one easy swipe. Then, slamming his steel claws into the wall, he challenged, "Who's next?"

* * *

Thankfully, Albel arrived in time. The rest of the party wouldn't have lasted very long against the squad of Brute troopers. Mirage even managed to salvage what seemed to be a Medical Box from the dead Brutes. After patching up the wounded, they were all set to go, the problem was where to go next? 

"We're definitely gonna have to get out of this base, but I'm worried that the outside will be more dangerous that the inside," Mirage voiced her concerns.

"No point staying in here. We've not only got the Covanent on our maggot asses, we got some weird worms called the Flood as well," replied Albel. He went on to tell them about Cerberus, the Arbiter, and the other strange happenings he had encountered.

"I say we take a vote," announced Mirage, "Those in favor of staying here until this 'Arbiter' comes back for us?" only Roger raised his hand.

"Those for walking around?" Albel, Mirage and Maria raised their hands.

"So it's four to one, eh? We'll leave then-" Maria was cut off the sudden realization that there were only four of them. The votes didn't tally; she counted five hands in total.

"Hello chumps!" a high-pitched squawky voice greeted. Albel recognized the voice. He immediately flicked out the Gunblade and emptied a clip in that direction, only to see that his target had comically dodged all the bullets.

"Who are you?" demanded Maria, only to see Albel reload another clip and let loose a second volley.

"My name is Jester milady," he introduced again, bowing low whilst still avoiding the hail of death from Albel's Gunblade, "If you were so kind would you please tell that barbarian who hangs around you to give me a little break?"

"Albel, stop," ordered Maria. It was done, but grudgingly.

"As I said, I can offer my services as a guide to you around this location, but in return, I need something from you," said Jester, "I need you to go down to this structure called the Library and obtain an artifact for me."

"Doesn't look like we have much of a choice do we? In which direction lies the Library?" asked Maria, accepting the offer out of pure necessity.

"It lies in the green sector, at the core of this installation. Just follow the path ahead of you and I shall re-appear to guide you when the time comes," replied Jester, his voice raised, happy that his offer was accepted, "Now if you would proceed this way."

Jester put a hand around Maria's shoulder, causing her to give a face of disgust. Taking the initiative, Albel shoved Jester away and brandished the Gunblade yet again.

"Break's over maggot, move along," he muttered cockily as he emptied another clip into the clown.

* * *

With Jester's help, the party easily navigated the twisting, winding ways deep underground into the planet. However it was not always smooth sailing. Many a time they ran into ambushes from Brutes, Jackals and Flood minions alike. Yet time after time, Jester always appeared and either showed them a secret level to shut a door, a secret weapons cache, or simply showed them the quickest way to outrun their pursuers. Over time, the party relaxed, confident that Jester was on their side. 

The whole party, except Albel.

"I tell you, that worm's up to something. I seen it millions of times. He's bringing us to ambushes in order to wear us down so he can kill us, or he's gonna get that thingy he wants and then kill us," complained Albel.

"The thing is, if he wanted to harm us he would have done so already," replied Maria.

As the party forged ahead, a strange structure appeared in from of them, a looming ominous tower with an aura of evil around it. Jester's voice echoed throughout the corridor, "We're heeeeeere! Now I brought you as a guide to remember your end of the deal!"

The doors to the Library then opened, and the party proceeded in, only to be greeted by a hail of bullets.

"Take cover!" yelled Maria as she dove to hide behind a piece of rubble.

"I told you worms that clown was up to no good," muttered Albel as he cocked his Gunblade, preparing to return fire.

Then, a voice called out from the direction of the fire, "Hell! You guys aren't Covenant or Flood, you're humans! What brings you to this desolate place?"

The party then slowly emerged from hiding, to see their assailants were humans. Their battered and overused rifles weren't pointing directly at the party, but the soldiers behind the makeshift ramparts still regarded the newcomers with hostility and suspicion in their eyes.

Maria then walked up to the leader of the rag-tag group of soldiers, she recognized the rankings were similar to that of the Pangalactic federation, and was quick to figure out who was boss and who was just an ordinary grunt.

"Who are you guys?" asked Maria.

"The name's Keyes. That's Commander Keyes. I had my ship scuttled somewhere on orbit of this rock, we're all that's left," introduced Keyes.

"I am Maria Traydor. We're civilians who…shared the same fate as you. Our ship got shot down," lied Maria, trying to give a convincing explanation.

"Civilians eh? You guys sure got a lot of guts to come down here by yourselves. This is less than ten percent of my original force. I can't exactly believe civilians actually made it this far," replied Keyes, obviously buying her story and signaled to her men to stand down.

The party felt more at ease now. The marines had recognized that they were not only a threat, but might be a valuable asset as well. If they had done what they claimed, and had come all the way down, surviving numerous Brute attacks, surely they could shoot a decent shot. Even if they couldn't, there'd be someone else for the Brutes to shoot at now.

"So commander," asked Maria, interested in knowing the current affairs of this new universe, "What exactly is going on?"

"We're under attack from an unknown alien race called the Flood," Maria winced at the name, "So far we're able to hold out, but unless reinforcements arrive, we're sitting ducks."

"What exactly do these Flood you speak of look like?" asked Maria.

Her question was answered immediately. The chamber shook violently and the doors to the library slowly opened, revealing hundreds of Flood minions. They were in for a big fight.

"Damn it!" Keyes leapt down from the ledge she was perched and raced for her rifle. The other marines were doing the same.

"Johnson! Abernathy!" she yelled as she reached the central area of their ramparts, hoping that her voice would be able to be heard of the noise of the advancing Flood, "Get machineguns up and ready! Give us some cover fire!"

Whether the two sergeants heard her or simply anticipated the command, they turned and grabbed the heavy machineguns lying in a crate, then, upon setting up the simple firing tripod, released a barrage of ammo into the oncoming horde. Other marines hoisted weapons as well, and soon the library was filled with glittering shards and stank of the acrid odor of gunpowder.

Then, Keyes heard a strange noise over the sound of gunfire, a keening moan, and risked a glance to the chamber's other end. She saw Maria blasting any Flood that got too close with a shotgun, neatly aligning it to a target, and putting the heavy slug into its chest. She also saw Mirage, the blonde wielding two sub-machineguns with expert skill and precision, sending many of the vile creatures to their deaths.

And then she saw Albel.

The warrior had leapt down from the rampart and was fighting his way across the chamber. Darkness rose behind him like a cloak, a curve of cold shadow that the Flood could not pierce, but his glistening Gunblade flared from his hand, searing through a Flood minion with a mere flick. Keyes saw the warrior turn and jerk his right arm in the direction of another approaching minion. The darkness around him re-formed from a defensive cloak, to a wall of jet-black blades, crackling with energy as they lashed out. The gleaming tip of one struck the minion just below the head and lanced clean through, causing a small spark to appear within the creature's mouth. The spark exploded, causing the creature to fall headless onto the flood. Albel then retracted this shadow swords back into their defensive cloak form and used it once again to ram into a minion which had come foolishly into range, before gutting it with his Gunblade.

It was the most amazing display of power Keyes had ever seen. She had watched the Arbiter and his fellow Elites fight before, and the Elites had always impressed her with their grace, speed and accuracy. But now there was something new. Now only was Albel as fast and strong as the Elites, he also had strange gifts of his own, and a deadly weapon and combat style to complement it.

Within minutes, the Flood had gone from conquering invaders to desperate defenders, with the remaining members of the horde struggling to get within the range of a marine. Then, they finally gave up their struggle, and collapsed in defeat. A huge cry was let out by the marines, this being the first time they had won by such a large margin.

Ecstatic, the marines crowded around Albel, hailing him as a savior and singing praises.

"Where'd you learn all that?" asked Keyes, she too amazed by the power of an ordinary civilian.

"Terran Confederacy Mercenary Corps," replied Albel, thinking of a sophisticated name to give without causing the marines to wrack their brains too much.

* * *

The Flood were no pushovers however. They just kept coming and coming, each wave with increasing intensity and numerical strength. Yet the band of strange civilians had proved to be more than just cannon fodder to the marines. They were warriors through and through, having the skills and wit of war veterans. There was the rumor going around that they might even have been involved in the war between the UNSC and the Communist separatists of Mars. 

During a breather after one assault, Albel felt the sudden urge to explore the rest of the library, especially the far corner shrouded in shadow. It was as if an unknown voice was calling to him, beckoning him to come forth and discover what secrets it held. Upon reaching the far end, all he saw was rubble, ruined furniture and other random bits of stone, metal and other unrecognizable pieces of material. Disappointed, he was about to turn back when he felt something move being him.

Spinning around, he saw a strange lighted pedestal, barely visible under a pile of rocks. He had seen this before, somewhere, but where? So many events had happened in this day and even he was feeling the fatigue of countless battles hitting him.

Cupping his chin and thinking, he recalled his mother's advice: if you're in doubt, think of something you'll enjoy doing.

_Yeah, sure, I really wanna skin that purple clown alive now…Wait…clown? That's it!_

Drawing his Gunblade, he struck the pedestal hard, causing the crash to be heard through out the chamber. Then, a doorway opened to a secret room. He had to see this. As he walked in, he heard the sounds of gunfire; the Flood were back. But Maria could take care of them. He had other things to do.

* * *

Striding into the secret chamber, Albel head the heavy door slam shut behind his back. For him, this was the point of no return. Looking ahead into the centre of the room, there he was, the guy who had gotten them all into this mess in the first place. 

"Jester," he regarded his foe.

"Bravo Albel, bravo. I never dreamed things would work out so well. Well done, well done," cheered Jester.

"I don't understand. Your minions are being slaughtered as we speak. Our reinforcements are arriving soon, what's there to cheer about?" queried Albel, cautious for a trick.

"Who said they were my minions silly? I was after," he picked up a small crystal, radiating red light all over, "This! Ha ha! You think I control the Flood? You're wrong boy. The Flood are attracted to their creators, the Forerunners. Anything in nature that mimics the energies of the Forerunner is like a magnet to them. This is no exception. With this, I shall finally be able to control the flood, and wipe out life completely!"

With his final word, his face contorted in agony as his body changed. Shell-like spots shifted across his limbs and torso, creating a moving layer of protections. His hair, once concealed in the jester hat sprouted out of it, reaching for the roof, yearning upwards. Then, two appendages forced their way out of his back, they were wings, rising to their full extent, they flared out behind him. He raised his right hand, fingers spread wide, and blades sprouted out of his fingertips in response, so did the spikes on his head and the wings on his back.

"Let's begin," called out Jester, as he lunged at Albel, both wings lancing across above his shoulders, determined to spear him and tear him apart. Albel's cloak of darkness blunted the blow but could not stop it entirely, the glow around Jester's body piercing it, as the latter's claws hoped to pierce his flesh, and he was shoved against the wall. As he parried a blow from Jester's right hand, the left clipped him on the shoulder, leaving scratches there, and his brow furrowed in pain. But he did not fall or falter.

Jester speared again, claws and wings both, all aimed for the warrior's chest. But his charge was stopped short by someone's heavy boots on his back, smashing him into the ground.

"Now Jester," the Arbiter announced, "You shall face us both."

Jester straightened and began to reply. But before he could speak Albel's feet struck him with full force, sending him sprawling. He stumbled himself, but caught himself with one arm and stayed upright.

Now all the pieces were in place. Albel, Jester and the Arbiter forming a rough triangle, circling each other, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

It was the Arbiter who reacted first. His Plasma sword flared into existence even as he dropped to one knee, fists plunging toward Jester's head and neck. Jester's wing spikes arched up, however, catching the Elite's wrists and turning his attack.

Albel was right behind, his Gunblade aimed not at the clown's head, but his wings. These blows connected, and Jester screamed as the glistening blade cut into his appendages, ichor seeping from the wounds. Then, he rested the barrel of his Gunblade against Jester's head, and pulled the trigger. And just as he did, Jester raised himself to a crouch and pivoted, one leg sliding out to trip him. Despite his best efforts, the shot flew hopelessly wide.

"Damn it!" muttered Albel as he let loose a volley of curses.

Then, he returned to the fray, his Gunblade and the Arbiter's Plasma sword against Jester's wings and claws. The two warriors moved together perfectly, each motion complementing the other, their attacks in perfect harmony, a strange mix of shadow and light. It was a devastating charge and few creatures in nature could survive it.

Unfortunately, Jester was one of them.

His wings acted of their own accord, it seemed, parrying and attacking without his conscious control, so that he always fought with an ally at his back. Their strikes blocked strikes and stabbed back in return, scoring both enemies several times, and his claws were just as fast, leaving dents in their armor and furrows in their skin. The yellow glow around him intensified, weakening Albel's cloak of shadows, and blocking the Arbiter's plasma bolts. He moved with the grace and danger of a panther, lithe, lovely and deadly.

Albel drove his blade towards Jester's heart and he caught his wrist between his wings, stopping the attack inches form his heart, and trapping his hand. He then spun around, hand rising to ensnare Albel's wrist, wings flaring to hurl the Arbiter back towards a wall with such force he fell to his knees. Albel tried to raise a shadow to protect himself, but Jester tore it away with one glowing wing, and then he slowly, deliberately pierced his side with the other, until the pain made him wince and the shadows fled.

"At first I thought I should kill you slowly, but I think not. You are too dangerous to risk," he smiled and twisted the wing within the helpless warrior, the pain so intense he would have fallen if Jester wasn't holding him up, "Farewell little human."

Jester reared his other wing up; spikes angled to strike his head and rip it to shreds. So overconfident was he, that he retracted the glow on his wings. Once again the light in the room faded slightly and the shadows reappeared. Albel used this to his advantage. Forcing out whatever strength which was left in him, he materialized his shadow blades again, and used them to strike Jester just before the clown's wing pierced his flesh.

Roaring in agony, Jester reeled backwards, releasing Albel from his grip. Trying to gain his footing, he turned around to see the Arbiter's fuel-rod gun leveled at his chest.

"It's time for the clown to bow out, Jester."

* * *

The Arbiter was injured badly, but not as bad a state as Albel. The human was bleeding profusely from many open, gaping wounds, the biggest on his side where Jester's wing had entered. It sent jolts of pain into his body with every step, and crimson blood gushed out with every movement. 

Struggling, the Elite managed to help the human out of the secret chamber, only to be thrown into another battle. The Flood had arrived in such a huge number that even with the party's help, the human defenders were gradually losing ground. As much as he wanted to jump into the fray and wipe out a dozen, his own injuries, and the injuries of this human warrior would not help the defenders out very much.

Yet he wasn't very worried. Humans had proved themselves time and time again to be full of surprises. The redhead he helped earlier not only survived a pack of Brutes, she also managed to survive injuries which would have killed a human, according to the Covanent data files. Likewise, this warrior should be able to make it.

The problem lay with the Flood.

Depositing Albel in a safe place, he whipped out his plasma rifle and was about to join in the fray, when a huge blinding light flooded into the Library. Squinting his eyes, he saw the immense horde of Flood minions being eradicated. Flood flesh became atoms, and the atoms lingered in the air for a millisecond before they split into molecules, and the molecules disappeared into nothingness.

Behind it all, the culprit stood with an outstretched arm. A blue-haired teenager clad in black clothes that were adorned with a number of symbols in various colours, and with an armada of swords strapped to his back. With a cocky grin, Fayt Leingod smirked at the awed human defenders.

"Missed me?"

* * *

A/N: It's finally done! Yay! Okay, now go ahead, press that review button! I know you want to. Press it...press it... 


	8. Salvation

Disclaimer: Let's see here… ownership of Star Ocean… nope. Ownership of anything we ripped off… Don't have those either. Bummer.

* * *

A/N: You know, I just realized that a Laser Weapon is a lot like a lightsaber…

* * *

Chapter 8: Salvation

"So how in the blazes did you get here so quickly, maggot?" Albel enquired from his slumped position against a crate, holding a hand to the blood-soaked bandage that covered the gaping wound in his side.

"With one _really_ big leap…" Fayt started, but Albel cut him off by flicking out his Gunblade's lethal edge and scraping it slowly against the floor.

"Cut the theatrics, worm, or I'll cut off your tongue off." Albel retracted the blade and slid his beloved weapon back into its sheath.

Fayt smirked again and regaled Albel's group, who were gathered around him, with his tale of survival.

* * *

A huddled mass of clothing and flesh stirred in a mound of snow. It shivered a bit, and suddenly a head full of blue hair shot up from the snow, revealing a pair of vivid green eyes that darted about wildly. 

Instinctively, Fayt reached behind his back to pull out the Divine Avenger, but his hand closed around only empty air. Confused, he groped around for a bit, only to realize that he had lost almost all his swords in the fall.

"Damn… Where's the Levantine when you need it?" The Levantine was one of the two sentient swords that Fayt knew of, Albel's Crimson Scourge being the only other one. As the Levantine was sentient, it knew its master and whenever Fayt called upon the Levantine, it answered to his summons.

He extended out a hand and at the same time, stretched out with his senses, calling out to his sword. As it always did before, the Demon sword complied, and with a flash of light, it appeared in his outstretched hand.

Fayt glanced around his surroundings and, noting the dim and desolate environment, decided that a little extra illumination was exactly what he needed. He fished around his pocket for a bit, and drew out a long, narrow cylinder. He depressed the activation button and, with an audible _bzzztt,_ a green bar of plasma that mirrored the color of his eyes flared to life in his hand. The gentle glow of his Laser Weapon's blade illuminated his surroundings for a few meters around him, and he was finally able to see with clarity.

He almost immediately regretted his decision for extra illumination the moment he took a look around. Just a few meters to his right, a large group of horribly disfigured, misshapen creatures were shambling towards him, and another group, twice as large as the other, was doing the same to his left.

At first Fayt hesitated, not knowing if he should fight or flee, but the instant one of the creatures leapt at him with its tentacle arms flailing, Fayt knew what he had to do.

He quickly dodge-rolled backwards, avoiding the creature's savage blow, and counter-attacked with a viscous strike of his own. Greenish ichor spewed onto the floor as Fayt's Laser Weapon hacked right through the creature's arm, and he immediately followed up the attack with another quick upward strike, severing the creature in half as the Levantine's blade sliced through its crotch.

He spun around and met a second creature's charge, parrying its blows with the Levantine while pile-driving his Laser Weapon through its chest. The creature howled as Fayt yanked the Laser Weapon out and let its lifeless body drop to the floor as he turned and eviscerated another one of the creatures.

Those few of the zombie-creatures that were clutching onto plasma rifles and human weapons started firing at him, but Fayt immediately flicked his blades into the path of the incoming projectiles, the Levantine deflecting bullets back towards their shooters, and the Laser Weapon doing the same to the plasma bolts.

He continued to desperately defend himself for a few minutes, the creatures coming at him from all directions. He decapitated another one of the creatures and backflipped, dodging another creature's attempt to wrap its tentacles around him. He landed lightly on his feet and was about to continue attacking when he suddenly recognized the weapon that one of the creatures was clutching onto.

It was the Veinslay. The creature that wielded it roared and leapt straight at him, flailing the Veinslay around.

Fayt was barely able to block the strike, what with the superhuman strength that the creature had swung the blade. The blow shook his arm down to his shoulder, and he could hardly maintain his grip on the Levantine. Knowing that he had to overcome the creature before it knocked the Levantine out of his hand, he swung his Laser Weapon in a thundering overhand.

The creature clumsily raised the Veinslay in an attempt to block the strike, but Fayt's arm traveled too fast for it, and the Laser Weapon sliced through the creature's wrist, severing the hand that spastically clutched onto the Veinslay's hilt and allowing it to tumble to the floor.

Fayt immediately deactivated his Laser Weapon and stuffed the hilt back in his pocket. Quickly, he reached down and attempted to pry the Veinslay free from the creature's severed hand, but as he…

"_Ok, ok, maggot, stop right there."

* * *

_

"I don't see how you possibly could've fought your way out of that. You're not even half as skilled as me." Albel said with his eyebrows arched disbelievingly.

Fayt's smirk almost became permanent. "So you say. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I humped the rest of the way here on foot. I managed to find the rest of my swords along the way."

"But where are the rest?" Maria asked.

"I… don't know. I came across the wreckage of a dropship on my way here, but there weren't any traces of survivors. There weren't even any bodies." Fayt lowered his head, obviously worried about Sophia.

"If there weren't any bodies, then they must have been taken by the Flood. I doubt that they'd have survived the crash in the first place." The Arbiter rumbled from his perch atop several crates that were stacked on top of one another to serve as an observation post.

"What! That means that… Cliff… Sophia… they're all…" Fayt looked ready to break down, but Maria set a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Calm down, Fayt. We all know that they're all strong enough to take care of themselves." Maria's words managed to get Fayt to simmer down, but still, her words rang hollowly in their ears. They knew that there was only a 50-50 chance of the others making it to the Library in one piece.

Suddenly, Fayt's ears perked as they picked up a very familiar sound. "Shhh! Do you hear that?"

"Hear what, maggot? The only thing I hear is your incessant rambling." Albel said sarcastically.

"Shut up, Albel. Just listen. I swear I know that voice…" Fayt continued to listen, and soon enough, an exceedingly familiar high-pitched scream was heard, followed by a deep-throated cry. A splattering sound was heard, and the high-pitched voice screamed again.

"_Keep that racket down, dammit! Those damned zombie-things might hear us!"_

"_They're called Flood, Fittir."_

Maria's eyes lit up at the voice. "It's Cliff!" She practically leapt over the rampart's barrier in a single leap and dashed forward, Fayt and Mirage hot on her heels.

As they ran out of the Library's entrance, they caught sight of the rest of Fayt's group. Cliff and Adray were trying to clean greenish gore off of their weapons, and Sophia and Peppita were desperately trying not to vomit onto the pulverized Flood corpse that lay in front of them. Half of the Marines that came with Fayt on the dropship were missing, probably dead, but he noted with relief that the Master Chief, Harrison and Baxter were still alive and among them.

"Hey guys, you all right?" Maria called out, and the group turned around to face them.

"Ah, Maria! Mirage! There you are!" Cliff started towards them, but a pink blur shot past him, headed straight for…

"FAYT! You're all right!" Sophia glomped Fayt with such force that the two of them tumbled to the ground.

"Hey, Sophia! Relax!" Fayt tried to pry Sophia off, but she was clinging on to him like a leech, and the most he managed was to budge her two inches away.

"Oh my god, Fayt, I was so worried! I thought you were dead!" Sophia cried out as she continued to clutch on to Fayt, almost as if afraid that he would disappear again if she let go.

"Uhh, Sophia, in case you haven't realized, we have several people watching us." Sophia finally let go and let out an embarrassed laugh.

"Sorry…"

* * *

_A few minutes later..._

"What! So you're saying that all of our rescue dropships crashed? Oh, goddamnit, now we'll never get off this ring!" Sergeant Johnson threw his arms up in the air in frustration and picked up his Battle Rifle, shooting any remaining Flood corpse in sight. The immobile bodies of the Flood twitched as the bullets impacted against their dead flesh, but besides that they didn't move.

"Hold on, human. I think I may be able to contact my people and get them to send down some dropships of our own to extract us. The Praetor should still be alive." The Arbiter suggested.

Commander Keyes pursed her lips into a thin line, thinking hard. Finally, she came to a decision. "All right, Arbiter. Contact your Praetor, and tell him to meet us on the surface. In the meantime, we'll have to pull together every scrap of supplies we have, and head topside. No doubt the Flood will be chasing us all the way, but it's either that or we stay here and die."

The Arbiter nodded and left for the nearest communication unit. As he was walking off, Keyes turned to address the rest of the party who had gathered in the command tent.

"Well, you heard me. You've got ten minutes to take as much as you can carry, because we'll need all the supplies we can get."

The Master Chief, Major Harrison and Sergeants Johnson and Baxter sharply saluted, while the party simply nodded.

They all exited the tent, leaving Commander Keyes alone. She sighed and put a hand on her forehead, frustrated. Just how worse could things get? It was times like this that she wished her father were still alive. He would know what to do.

Taking a few moments to compose herself, she left the command tent to prepare herself for the imminent journey to the surface. As she passed by the secret door that Albel had unlocked, she heard an odd sound. A barely audible laugh that was ridiculously high-pitched. In an instant she had the barrels of her two SMGs leveled at the doorway, ready to make Swiss cheese out of anything that passed through.

But nothing did. The doorway was empty, and no movement could be seen. The mere thought of the laugh sent shivers down Keyes' spine, but she shook it off and holstered her SMGs. Just as she turned around and started walking off, a bloodied figure stepped into view, but not through the doorway. The figure remained in the chamber, watching the Commander walk away.

Then, slowly, it started to laugh. The same high-pitched laugh that Keyes' had heard earlier. It raised a hand to its bloodstained face and wiped off the blood, revealing a clown-like face that was painted white, with purple lipstick and eyeliner.

* * *

"Move it! Let's go!" Johnson roared out to the Marines that rushed past him. All of the marines were armed to the teeth with all the weapons they could find, and they were burdened with all the supplies they could carry. Some of them were even clutching onto two shotguns at once, trying to mimic Cliff's tactics, though they lacked the strength and dexterity to shoot, pump and reload the gun effectively with only one hand. 

As soon as the last marine was through the Library entrance, Johnson leapt down from his perch atop a crate and waited for the last few of the survivors. The party, the Arbiter, the Master Chief and Commander Keyes ran towards him.

"Are all of the surviving marines accounted for?" Keyes asked.

"Yes, ma'am. They're all hightailing it to the surface right now. We'd better haul ass as well." Johnson said as he cocked his sniper rifle.

"Very well. Chief, Arbiter, Fittir, Nox, take point. Johnson, take Traydor, Koas and Leingod. You're our rear guard. Huxley, Rosetti, Lasbard, Esteed, stick with me." Keyes quickly issued these orders.

John, the Arbiter, Cliff and Albel promptly complied, and they advanced ahead, fanning out in a rough delta formation. Fayt, Maria and Mirage fell back to where Johnson was standing, while Roger, Peppita, Adray and Sophia remained close to the commander.

At once, they set off. Their frantic rush to the surface was frequently interrupted by Flood attacks, coming mainly from behind them, but they were always quickly put down by the rear guard. Typically, it was Fayt who would completely obliterate the Flood's assault with an Ethereal Blast or two, buying them just enough time to continue on unhindered.

Occasionally the Flood assault would get so intense that they were forced to halt their progress just to throw off the Flood long enough for them to start off again. Albel slaughtered those few Flood that tried to cut them off from in front, for he was usually the first into the battle. He was so brutally efficient at butchering the Flood that there was almost nothing left for John, Cliff and the Arbiter to shoot at.

Maria had sustained a nasty leg wound on the way, and in addition to her head injury from earlier on, she wasn't faring very well. She had hastily bandaged the wound in an attempt to stave off the bleeding, but she knew that she was done for if she didn't administer proper medical attention to it. Already, the bandage was soaked crimson with blood, and her life fluids were oozing out of the wound at a slow, steady rate, even with the bandage's presence.

She continued on hobbling forward, desperately trying to catch up with the rest of the group. Suddenly, just as she put her weight down on her injured leg, a lance of pain shot up her calf. The pain came so suddenly that she had no time to scream, and she could only give a small cry as her legs gave out from beneath her. She collapsed to the ground with a barely audible thud, but nobody in the group heard her collapse, and they continued rushing off.

All except one. Fayt quickly realized that Maria was missing from the group, and he turned around to see her collapsed on the floor, with a Flood infection form poised over her body, ready to turn her into one of those half-dead alien killing machines.

"NO!" Courage, fearlessness, and an overpowering willingness to give his life for Maria's came over him, and he shot forward, enveloped by a bright scarlet light.

The Flood infection form disintegrated as Fayt's twin Destruction Blades ran it through, and Maria stared up in wonder at the red-clad and crimson-haired Fayt that stood over her. Fayt quickly pulled Maria to her feet and asked if she was okay.

Maria nodded and stepped forward, but her injured leg gave out from under her again, and she would have hit the ground face-first, if not for Fayt catching her in mid-fall.

"Honestly, Maria, you're not okay. I'll carry you the rest of the way." Before Maria could protest, Fayt had hooked his arm behind both her legs and hoisted her up onto his shoulder.

"Hey, what the… Fayt! Put me down!" Maria started to object, but Fayt took off before she could say another word.

It felt as though she was flying. Fayt was moving so quickly that her surroundings transformed into a blur, and occasionally she would see a few shapes that leapt into their path, roaring like Flood minions. However, even with only one Destruction Blade at his disposal, Fayt was still able to dispatch them quickly. The blade flickered into existence and disintegrated whatever Flood attempted to halt their passage.

It was only a short while before they caught up with the rest of the party. Johnson shouted out in surprise as Fayt barreled past him, uttering a quick apology to the sergeant as he dashed past the party members.

Fayt knew that Maria's injuries were severe, and if they didn't get her to a medical center quickly, the blood loss would take its toll on her. He continued to tear down the corridors, already way ahead of the party. It was only a few more passageways to go before they reached the surface…

* * *

It was cold. Maria could feel it in her bones. The cold had nothing to do with the low ambient temperature of the Library's containment zone; she knew precisely what was going on. 

Her extremities had gone numb. The searing pain in her calf had long since faded away, replaced by a dull throbbing. She could hardly even feel her fingers. This was bad. The blood loss was already reaching critical levels; a few more minutes and she'd be dead. All she could do now was place her trust in Fayt and hope that he got her to a medical center quickly enough…

* * *

_Maria, hang in there! I'm not going to let you die! Not now!_ Fayt eviscerated the Flood minion that was foolish enough to attempt to bar his way, and at last, he came to the final door, the one that led to the surface. And he didn't like what he saw. 

The door was shut. Two meters thick, ten meters wide and five meters tall, the blast door of solid steel prevented him from saving Maria's life.

Fayt refused to accept this. He wouldn't let a simple door get in the way of saving the life of his beloved.

He set Maria down slowly, grimly noting the coldness of her flesh and her shallow breathing. Desperate to keep her with him, he tightly clasped her hand in his.

"Maria, stay with me! You're not going to die, you hear me! I won't let it happen!" He stood before Maria could summon the strength for a reply, and his twin Destruction Blades flared to life in his hands.

Setting himself loose upon the door, he carved out at least half of one side of it, slashing with all his might. He was confident that one more slash would be sufficient to breach the door, and he swung his Destruction Blade for the final time.

But only his fist smashed against the steel foundation of the door. Fayt stared in shock at his empty hand before he realized what happened; his Valor Form had run out of steam again. And at the worst possible time, to boot!

Fayt couldn't believe this was happening. Just a few feet behind him, Maria was dying from blood loss, and there was nothing he could do about it. Screaming out in desperation, he drew the Levantine and the Divine Avenger, hacking and slashing at it, frantically trying to accomplish what only his Destruction Blades were capable of.

He could hear the party catching up from behind him, but it didn't matter to him. Nothing mattered anymore, because he had failed. He had failed to save Maria's life…

He continued to bash his blades against the unyielding steel of the blast door, screaming in denial. The party came up behind him, solemnly silent. Sophia quickly bent down over Maria's body and sealed her wounds with a Healing spell, but it was still unable to compensate for the lost blood. Any longer and Maria would still be dead.

Fayt was about to give up when a sudden sound from the other side of the door got his hopes up again.

_"Hurry up, humans! Get those plasma cannons aligned! The Arbiter and his comrades are the other side of that door! We need that door breached!"_

Three seconds later, a high-pitched whine sounded, and fortunately Fayt had retained enough sense to gather Maria's trembling body and leap backwards before the door exploded inwards with a bright flash of light.

The smoke cleared a few moments later, and an Elite clad in pearl-white armor stepped through the wreckage of the door.

"Hurry! The Flood are rushing to the surface even as we speak! Time is of the essence!" The Elite roared out to the party. The Elite's speech sounded strangely muffled, and Fayt realized that the Elite's left mandibles were missing; only two short stumps were left in their place.

Immensely grateful for the second chance granted to Maria, Fayt cradled her body in his arms once more and dashed through the wreckage with the party, desperate to keep her from dying.

He rushed through the door's wreckage, following the Elite. The surface was bustling with activity; apparently the door had shut between them and the evacuating marines, for several of the marines were already loading up supplies and personnel into the Elites' several Phantoms that were parked on the ground. He spotted a familiar redheaded figure in the crowd, and he quickly ran over to her.

"Nel!" He called out. The ninja turned to face him, and Fayt could see that she was bandaged in several places, with evident plasma burns all over her body.

"Fayt! Is Maria all right?" She glanced concernedly at the limp bluenette in Fayt's arms.

"No, the blood loss is taking its toll on her. I need to get her to a medical center, quick!" Fayt was about to dash off in search of that Red Cross that was famous for saving lives in times of need, but Nel stopped him.

"Hang on, Fayt. Don't go rushing off just yet. I know where the med center is; I just came from there. Follow me."

* * *

The field medic sighed and stepped back from the makeshift bed that Maria was resting on, wiping the perspiration off his forehead. 

"Well, how is she, doc? Is she gonna be all right?" Fayt asked.

"She'll be fine, she just needs lots of rest. Make sure she avoids strenuous activities for a week; it's going to take quite some time for her body to compensate for all that blood lost. Fortunately, she doesn't need a blood donor. The blood plasma infusion I gave her should speed her recovery up quite a bit." The medic stepped out of the medical tent, leaving Fayt alone with Nel and an unconscious Maria.

"Don't worry about her, Fayt. She's going to be fine. Apris, I've been hit worse and I'm sure she's twice the soldier I am. She'll pull through." Nel set a comforting hand on his shoulder before exiting the tent as well.

The blue-haired swordsman remained silent. He had heard the same empty, hollow words before. Why was it that soldiers could face their own deaths without batting an eye, but when faced with the death of a comrade, they turned away and lied to themselves?

He stayed in the tent for a few minutes, watching Maria's still body lie on the bed. Finally, when he couldn't bear watching her any longer, he left the tent as well.

What nobody saw was slightly open left eyelid of Maria's that was watching their every move, especially Fayt's.

_I hope to God what I think he feels for me isn't a wrong assumption…_She thought to herself before letting the fatigue take over her body, bringing her to sleep.

* * *

"Get down! Incoming!" The Marine that shouted the warning abruptly vanished in a blast of green radioactive energy, and Fayt threw himself to the ground just in time to avoid a second volley. 

The fuel rod gun's blast whizzed over his head and detonated in the middle of an ammunition stockpile, causing a huge secondary explosion that took out a file of allied Grunts with it.

"The Brutes are attacking! Forward, my warriors, and fear not pain or death!" The white-armored Elite that Fayt had come to know as the Praetor roared out. Humans, Elites, Hunters and Grunts alike quickly organized a rapid counterattack.

The Brutes, Jackals, and another Covenant species that Fayt had never seen before leapt into the fray. These were the smallest ones he had seen so far, shorter than the Grunts and skinnier than the Jackals; they flew over the battlefield on buzzing wings that kept them aloft at considerable altitudes, raining down plasma fire onto the defenders relentlessly. They were the Drones: the Covenant's aerial infantry.

This latest offensive was violently repelled by the Marines, who aimed their trusty projectile weapons at the Drones and started showering them with lead. The Drones had little chance of evading the projectiles, and their limp corpses fell to the ground in droves.

However, that left the Brutes and Jackals free to charge in. With the Marines fire concentrated on repelling the Drones, only the Elites, Grunts and Hunters were left.

A majority of the Brutes were toting fuel rod cannons; they concentrated their fire on the Hunters, the heavy firepower of the cannons eliminating them rapidly.

With their heavy infantry gone, the Elites were forced to rely on their own heavy weapons to deal with the threat. The Elites and returned fire with their own fuel rod guns, taking out several of the FRC-toting Brutes. Some of the more daring Elites leapt straight into the Brute's lines, cutting them into pieces with their renowned Plasma Swords.

The frantic battle continued for several minutes; the Brutes and Jackals had the advantage of superior numbers and sheer strength, while the allied humans, Elites and Grunts had the advantage of combined arms and superior tactics.

Through less than half the battle, the expert marksmanship of the human snipers eliminated all of the Drones, and the Marines were finally free to assist the Elites and Grunts in fighting the Brutes. The surviving Brutes suddenly found themselves harried like never before as the humans turned their weapons on them; a combination of piercing bullets and searing plasma cutting them down easily.

Desperate, the Brute commander called in for an artillery strike. About half a klick away, the artillery commander acknowledged the order, and three seconds later, a volley of plasma projectiles arced forth from the line of Wraith artillery tanks that were parked neatly on top of a hill.

The plasma projectiles landed on the allied forced without warning, and their lines were thrown into disarray as the blue-white explosions vaporized troopers and equipment alike.

With the defenders' lines in disarray, the Brutes finally had time to regroup and go on the offensive once more.

Things were starting to get dire for the defenders. The artillery bombardment hadn't ceased, and to make things worse, the Brutes had broken out the fuel rod guns again and were adding to the artillery bombardment with lethal effect. The rampart had already been reduced to rubble, and the Phantoms were already under direct fire.

The Arbiter was about to lose hope when a sudden roaring caught his attention, and a volley of red-white blurs streaked across the sky.

The blurs impacted against the line of Wraith tanks, and they vanished in giant fireball. Thin yellow lines stitched across the air, slaughtering the Brutes like a lawnmower cutting grass.

John tapped the Arbiter on his shoulder, and pointed skywards. The Arbiter looked up, and a flight of Longsword interceptors flashed across their view, disappearing over the horizon.

Overhead, a dozen pelicans came down and landed next to the Elite's battered Phantoms. More Marines marched out of the Pelicans, and they quickly dispersed, reinforcing the defenders' lines.

Harrison saw a familiar uniformed figure march out of one of the Pelicans, and he quickly ran forward to address Captain Wallace.

"Captain! What are you doing down here?" Harrison asked with a confused look on his face.

Wallace smirked and replied, "Ah, good old Fleet Admiral Harper decided to pay us a visit with some reinforcements! Our fleet, combined with the Elites', is kicking ass back in orbit! We now for sure have a confirmed victory up there, so the Admiral decided to send me down here to pick you guys up and bring you back up into orbit!"

The tide battle quickly swung over in favor of the allied forces of Elites, Grunts, Hunters and Humans. Within minutes the Covanent army was routed and was forced to retreat with whatsoever rag-tag regiments they had left. It was a stunning and unexpected victory, but it took its toll on the allies. Half of the Elites had perished bravely in the fighting. Yet the rest of them, despite the dead and dying still lying on the battlefield, were agitated and anxious to leave.

"It's the Flood," the Arbiter finally broke the silence, "They are more numerous that we ever imagined."

"What! Didn't I wipe out all of them?" Fayt nearly choked on his mug of sludge-black coffee.

"You overestimate yourself Leingod," said the Praetor, "The Flood you destroyed were merely a fraction of their total strength. A small fraction that we too could have eliminated with similar ease."

"So there's more of them eh?" smirked Wallace facing the Praetor, "How many exactly? Can we get a number?"

"A hundred times more than a hundred thousand," was the reply from the ashen-faced Elite.

"That's not good, we gotta get our maggot asses out of here before those worms get to us," suggested Albel.

"Will do. Harrison, you and Keyes will see to it that all my men get off this rock alive. Commence evacuation now! And relay that information to the Elites and their buddies, we need all the fight we can get up there."

The allies worked with clockwork efficiency, and within the short span of three hours, all humans, the least settled in of the four races had already been safely tucked away in the waiting capital ships in orbit. Most Grunts were in Phantoms heading to Elite cruisers, while the hulking and slow Hunters were in the process of loading up.

Fayt surveyed the grounds. What was once a bustling camp occupied by the combined forces was now a ghost town, with the inhabitants frantically clambering on board the transport vessels which would lead them to salvation. Only several Elites were left to act as sentries in the unlikely event of the Covanent returning. The rest had bundled in with the Hunters and the heavy machinery and were on their way off the planet as well.

Then, a voice called out to him.

"Master Leingod," an Elite patrolling the frontier several hundred meters in front of him approached. He gave a quick salute before continuing with his message, "All our brethren have been evacuated. Now all that's left are the sentries and your party. With all due respect we would request that you follow me to the Phantoms and we shall depart."

Fayt nodded, slightly shocked at the reverence given to him by the alien, and followed quietly. He approached the airfield to find the party already boarded on the two remaining Phantoms, and anxiously waiting for him. He saw Mirage giving him a wink as the Phantom she was on lifted-off. Half of the party was safe.

With an apologetic face for making them wait so long, he ran towards the ramp.

A sudden force threw him backwards and he fell face-down onto the sandy ground. Picking himself up, he was forced to dive down again to avoid a plasma bolt. The Brutes had returned.

But it couldn't be the Brutes, there were too many. They had the camp totally surrounded, and the Brutes, even before they were defeated, were only able to attack one side of the camp at a time. Then, the answer struck him like a hammer on the anvil. Those weren't Brutes. They were the Flood.

"Master Leingod! There are too many, we need time to warm up the engines!" shouted the pilot.

"Then I'll buy us some time." Fayt pulled out the Levantine and was about to charge straight into the Flood swarm when a hand suddenly clamped down onto his shoulder, stopping him from taking another step.

He whirled around to see Maria standing before him, her phase gun cocked and ready. "If you're staying, so am I." She said to him.

"Maria, you can't fight! Your injuries are too severe, you'll kill yourself if you try to take them on! I'm the only one strong enough to hold them at bay." Fayt tried to pull her back to the dropship, but she pushed his arm away.

"No, Fayt. I'm not leaving you behind. Not now." Already, the Flood were closing in, and Maria fired a shot right past Fayt's head that vaporised an incoming Flood minion. "I'm staying with you, whether you like it or not."

Fayt growled in frustration and thrust the Levantine in a backwards stab that punched a hole through the Flood that was about to break his neck. Yanking out the blade, he raised his voice. "Damnit Maria, I can't let you fight! I won't let anything bad happen to you!"

Maria's own voice started to rise by several decibels as well. "Stop treating me as if like I'm made of glass, Fayt! I can take care of myself!"

"I won't let you stay behind with me! I won't let you die with me! I can't... let you die..." Fayt's voice lowered to a soft murmur. Realisation was starting to dawn upon him. This was happening just like the dream he had back on the _Reynolds..._

"It would be better to die with you," Maria said to him, setting her hand softly on his shoulder. "Rather than live the rest of my life full of regrets that I didn't stay behind."

"But... but why? Why do this?" Fayt asked. His heart was hammering in his chest like a jackhammer, and he mysteriously had trouble focusing on his surroundings. His attention was solely focused on the bluenette in front of him.

Maria couldn't hold it in any longer. She had to say it now or she would never be able to...

"Because _I love you."_ She said quietly. (A/N: Chief: YES! We're finally here! Master: I was afraid he was gonna do that...)

For an instant, Fayt completely forgot that he was right in the middle of an alien horde, that their lives were at stake. He forgot all about the Executioners, about Luther, about everything that had happened in the past few months. He had thought he would never hear Maria say those words, much less to him.

It was in that instant, unfortunately, that a Flood minion took advantage of Fayt's space-out session to take a swing at him.

Maria saw the blow coming and screamed, "Look out!"

She shoved Fayt aside and placed her body in the path of the blow. Fayt could only watch in horror as the Flood minion's tentacles lashed against Maria's battered chest armor and carved out its breastplate. Blood gushed out of the new wound in her midsection; she screamed in agony and collapsed to the ground, clutching at the wound.

"NO!" Despair and hopelessness overcame him. Without Maria, he felt like he had no purpose in life. No reason to continue on living. An emptyness of emotionlessness filled him, worsening the despair. Desperate, he heaved himself to his feet and was about to rip the Flood minion apart with his bare hands when his arms froze.

No, it wasn't just his arms. His _entire body_ felt as if like it had frozen over, literally. His blood had been chilled into solid ice within his veins; any trace of heat in his body had vanished, replaced by utter coldness.

He felt as if his body had been transformed into a human-shaped block of ice. Unable to even make a sound, he screamed silently inside as the biting cold ravaged his senses. Once again, the lively green of his pupils changed, freezing over into a chilly shade of icy blue.

With titanic effort, he wrenched his lips apart and gave a soft, shivering moan. A blue symbol appeared on his forehead; tendrils of Destruction energy flowed out of it just like in Valor Trigger, except that this time the energy was tinged blue.

The same protective sphere surrounded him, and it shattered like before, but this time the resultant Fayt looked drastically different.

His garments had switched to a cool blue color, with flame designs at the edges of his sleeves and pant legs. Blue sparkles emitted from the soles of his boots, gusts of wind swirled around his legs, and in his clenched fist, the blade of the Levantine glowed a bright white, charged with Destruction energy. His movements were incredibly smooth, every manuever carefully planned and calculated. His eyes were the epitome of calmness, betraying no feeling or thoughts.

(A/N: Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting the DeT's next advancement, I give you the Wisdom Trigger!)

His blade flashed brighter for a moment before a stream of energy shot forth from its tip; the energy collided with the Flood form that had struck down Maria, and it disintegrated without a sound, without a trace.

Flood closed in from all around him, but those that leapt within a few yards of him vanished utterly. Streaks of energy spewed forth from Fayt's blade, and Flood everywhere were disintegrated. Those few that were lucky to survive his barrage of Destruction Shots tried to nail him down with their tentacles, but he remained one step ahead of them. Everytime a Flood swung its tentacles at him, he would smoothly avoid the blow and quickly retaliate with a barrage of Destruction Shots, all the while dodging other attacks effortlessly. It seemed as though Fayt knew exactly where and when the Flood would strike, and he planned his actions and counter-attacks accordingly.

A whole bunch of Flood tried to leap upon him all at once; he swung the Levantine in a circle and spun around once. Flames of Destruction energy materialised out of thin air and revolved around him, obliterating any Flood that came into contact with the flames. He raised his blade to the sky; thunderbolts of energy appeared from the clouds and struck down on a large section of the Flood armada, smiting a majority of them. Projectiles of all kinds came flying at him; even Jackhammer rockets and fuel rod gun rounds were sent his way. Merely raising his blade in a blocking position, a barrier of energy formed around him. The projectiles disintegrated against the barrier, and suddenly the Flood that had fired at him found themselves being sliced apart by an invisible force, courtesy of the energy absorbed by the barrier.

Once the immediate area had been cleared, Fayt scooped up Maria's bleeding body and, gliding over the ground with his enchanted boots, brought her back into the dropship. He leapt in as well and spun around smoothly, charging up his blade with energy. A fresh horde of Flood was charging right for the hatchway, but they never came closer than a few yards.

Once Fayt had charged all of the energy possible until it felt as if like he was going to explode, he unleashed it all at once. The Flood horde disappeared in an explosion of pure white energy, and the hatch closed just as Fayt reverted back to normal. He collapsed to his knees, panting in exhaustion. Slowly, he crawled over to where Maria was lying down, bleeding copiously from her wound.

She turned her pale face towards him as he approached, whispering, "... I had to... I'm sorry, Fayt..." She closed her eyes and just before she lost consciousness, she heard him utter the words she had hoped with all her heart that she would hear him say one day.

"Don't say that, Maria. I won't let you die... because, I... love you too."

* * *

Albel saw what went on back at the camp from his airborne Phantom. The kid was doing his superman thing again, jumping around blasting up Flood as though they were made of paper. They'd be safe, no doubt. His Phantom, however, might not be. 

The Flood had commandeered numerous Jackal anti-aircraft batteries and the pilot was frantically trying to navigate through the cloud of death. Then, a great explosion rocked the ship, throwing everyone off their feet.

They were hit.

"All aboard prepare for crash-landing! We are hit! I repeat, we're hit, prepare for crash-landing!" blared the speakers.

Albel stumbled into the cockpit whilst trying to remain on his feet. The pilots were screaming at each other in their native tongue, but then grew silent as they started at the human, as if asking him for orders.

"Land at that valley there. It's nice and narrow, and hard to get in. We'll just sit tight until help arrives," he commanded, pointing at a mountain range in the distance. The pilots stared at each other for awhile, digesting the information before setting a course.

Thanks to either Albel's decision, or the expert skills of the pilots, the crash-landing didn't seem like one and the party was only slightly shaken. That was the good news. The bad news was that they needed to repair the ship.

"How long will it take?" asked Albel, anxious. The Flood were approaching, fast.

"Fifteen human minutes, plus an additional five to warm up the engines," replied the pilot, pausing from his work.

"The Flood will be here in ten minutes, do it by then," he ordered.

"We'll do our best sir," came the acknowledgement.

* * *

_Ten minutes later…_

The sensors on the Phantom flared to life. The Flood had caught on their trail and were entering the valley. The pilot and his co-pilot ran in and reported the situation, "Master, we have fixed the ship, but we still need time to warm up the engines!"

Albel looked at the passengers. Nel was certainly in no shape to fight, neither was Mirage, needless to say Roger. And they needed the two Elites to fly the Phantom. It was only him.

"I'll buy you guys time. Once the engines are warmed up head straight for space, don't wait for me. Just make sure my people are safe," he instructed. Slightly stunned at his willingness to sacrifice himself, the Elites stared at each other for a few seconds, before giving crisp salutes, and then scurrying to the cockpit.

"Albel, you're not going out there to sacrifice yourself, are you?" asked Nel, with a worried look on her face. She struggled to stand up, and finally was able to do so by leaning against a wall.

"I am." The look on her face turned from worry to devastation.

"No! Don't go you stupid bastard! We need you!" she cried, tears welling in her eyes, "I need you."

Albel then approached her, and he placed one arm on the wall, right next to the female warrior's face.

"There comes a time, where a human being needs to fight to protect what's precious, even if it means till death," he stared hard into her watery eyes, "Now's the time for me. Because I'm protecting what's precious."

He then leaned forward towards her. Their bodies grew closer by the second. Nel's heart started thumping at an incredible speed. Why was she reacting this way? Did she really want to be like this? As his lips drew nearer, the lips that spewed poison and death now looked so warm and inviting. She closed her eyes, eager to be swallowed in his embrace.

But it never came.

A plasma bolt hit the hull of the ship, shaking it violently again. Albel knew it was time. The Flood were too close now.

"Don't worry about me," he said to the warrior, "I'll be fine."

With his usual cocky smirk he hopped off the Phantom and strode towards the oncoming horde, drawing his Gunblade and forming his cloak of shadows and slamming the hatch shut behind him.

Devastated, Nel fell to her knees, and stared blankly at the hatch as the ship's engines roared to life.

* * *

Albel heard the engines roar to life. That was a good sign. The rest of them would be safe. But now he had something to worry about. He was totally surrounded by the horde, and to fight his way out would be impossible. From his high vantage point he could see that most of the planet had been covered by those zombie-like monsters. 

He saw the Phantom slowly fade into the darkening sky, harried but unhindered by the trail of munitions behind it. The Flood were keeping their distance whilst still surrounding the lone warrior. Any too foolish would be sliced instantly by the blade in his hand or one of those floating around him. But they knew that he would fall. They just needed to bide their time.

Then, the ground trembled, as though being torn apart and a split in the ranks of the Flood emerged. Albel wanted to use that as a starting point to lance through the horde, until he saw why the ranks parted.

A gargantuan abomination of nature with a gaping mouth full of metal-sheering teeth and thick muscular tentacles approached. He recognized it from the Elite databases. It was a Flood Titan. It heaved its massive bulk closer and closer to him, until the warrior could feel the monster's breath bearing down on him.

Then, the monstrosity gave out a deafening shriek, spewing out water, blood, saliva, body parts of Brutes and other Covanent races, and other unrecognizable bits.

Albel gave a look of disgust before straightening up and giving his usual smirk, which served to piss the huge thing off.

"Hello beastie," he muttered, before brandishing his Gunblade and charging towards the Titan.

* * *

Nel sat in the corner of the Phantom's passenger hold, silently brooding on the loss of one of her dearest comrades. She had always resented him, but why was she feeling like this now? As the Delta Halo slowly grew distant and the allied fleet appeared, she could feel moisture creeping down her cheeks. 

"Are you crying?" asked a concerned Mirage.

Startled, Nel quickly wiped her face and forced back her tears.

"It's just the condensation. Space is really cold."

Mirage wiped her finger on a wall of the Phantom, there was no sign of condensation whatsoever. "The wall is still dry…"

"I can't cry. Soldiers don't cry," Nel said silently in her defense.

"I'm sure somewhere out there there's a soldier who will willingly shed a tear when she loses a loved one. Am I right Nel?" asked Mirage again, as she squatted to come to face-level with the redhead.

Nel looked up at the blonde's concerned face. The formers cheeks were streaked with tears and her eyes were red and watery.

"And here I thought I wasn't going to cry," Nel choked out, before collapsing onto Mirage's shoulder and sobbing her heart out.

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope the new Trigger is good enough for you guys. Wisdom Trigger is essentially the opposite of Valor Trigger; it relies on long-ranged, symbology-based attacks. Anyway, we've reached the target of 25 reviews at chapter 8, so I'll reward you guys with a bonus secret, a trailer for the sequel to this fic that we _will_ write if you review consistently!

* * *

(A/N: Fayt and Maria themselves do not appear in the trailer, but the two characters featured are related to them.)

Bonus Secret

Another Time, Another Story

The first scene is this dark town in night time with rain falling, tall buildings and neon lights. Then walking out of the shadows comes a hooded figure in a black rain coat covering his eyes and most of his face. Only his nose and mouth are visible.

The view flashes to an up-close shot of the figure's face; hints of blue hair can be seen from under his hood. He turns his gaze towards the ground. Dark creatures that bear a vague resemblance to Convictors start appearing out of the ground. The view shifts backwards until we see the hooded unknown surrounded by a horde of the Convictor-creatures.

Then the camera moves and travels up a building. On top of the building is a blue-haired youth in the same black rain coat, but the hood is down. He looks very similar to Fayt but has a black blindfold covering his eyes.

The hooded unknown sweeps aside his cloak, and twin Destruction blades flare to life in his hands with a flourish.

The blue-haired youth faces the sky, spreading his arms.The rain stops, and a hole opens up in the clouds. Moonlight shines through the hole, creating a circle of pale light around the hooded unknown. The Convictor-creatures back away slightly. The blue-haired youth removes the blindfold, revealing a pair of blue eyes that look exactly like Maria's. The hooded unknown starts to speak.

_"Where's Fayt?"_

The view goes black, there is a flash of light, and whole slew of dialogue starts spewing out.

_"The door to 4D space..." "This time, I'll fight!" "Your excellency... but why?" "Behind the Darkness..." "We have come for you, my Liege.""Maybe our journey meant nothing after all..." "What is Geostigma, you ask?It is the infectious darkness..." "His voice... I don't hear it any more." "Can we do it? Against That?" "Father... Why?" "What is this place?" "What took you so long, Maria?" "It's not over yet!" "Fayt..."_

Then the last sentence to appear on screen is:

_"We'll go together."  
_

**Star Ocean: Combat Evolved 2  
Tides of Darkness**


	9. Cortana

Disclaimer: Yes, yes, I know, I know… err, what was this about again?

* * *

A/N: Ok, I'm really going in way over my head in this one… I actually think that I can rip off lightsaber combat styles for this! Well, actually, considering that the fact that Laser Weapons are similar to lightsabers… well, we'll just wait and see, won't we?

* * *

Chapter 9: Cortana

Fayt had quickly sealed Maria's injuries with a healing spell, and the moment the Phantom docked in the _Reynolds'_ hangar, he had brought her to the cruiser's medical bay and left her in the care of the navy doctors.

As much as he wanted to stay by her side, he knew he would not be able to. The battlefield was calling out to him, and he needed to aid his comrades at war. Sprinting out of the sick bay, he ran for the briefing room, where the party was waiting.

"Leingod! You're late." Major Harrison gazed at Fayt reproachfully as the bluenette entered the briefing room.

"I… was held up. I have no excuse." Fayt replied, slightly embarrassed.

Harrison sighed. "Never mind that, we've got another task on our hands. Master Chief, go ahead."

The Spartan stepped forward and addressed the party.

"Only a few hours ago I had left this system, heading to Earth in an attempt to stop the Covenant from destroying it. However, now I've been sent back here with all of you, and I remember what it is that left behind in this sector." John raised a hand to the holographic tactical display, pointing to a huge structure that looked like some sort of half-destroyed moon, locked in orbit around the Delta Halo.

"The Covenant's holy city, High Charity." John continued. "The AI that I left behind on that station to make sure that Halo didn't fire is still there. The Flood have infested the station, and I don't think she's managed to elude capture."

Fayt balked at the word 'she'. AI's now actually had gender? The Master Chief spotted his slack jaw and said, "I know you'd think it's impossible to capture an AI as good at system-jacking as Cortana, but the Gravemind's ability to corrupt electrical systems should not be underestimated. I'd bet that they've already twisted her systems so badly that she's no longer one of us anymore."

Fayt recovered and nodded mutely.

The Spartan continued on with his briefing. "Our objective is to break into the station, and recover Cortana's data module, if at all possible. Failing that, we are left with no other choice but to set High Charity on self-destruct. The explosion will destroy both the Flood and Halo. By then, we'll already be back at Earth."

"What! Destroy Halo? But Albel's still down there!" Nel protested.

"We don't have any other choice. Besides, with all the Flood on the surface of Halo, he'd probably be dead by now." Harrison replied.

* * *

Albel dodged the Titan's tentacle, leaping over the clumsy strike, and retaliating with a barrage of shots from his Gunblade. Another tentacle came flying at him, and he raised the blade to block it. However, a sudden itching in his nose caused him to sneeze unexpectedly, flinching the blade forward with just enough force to sever the tentacle in half. 

The Flood Titan roared in pain and lumbered back a step, flailing around its maimed appendage, but Albel paid it no heed.

Rubbing his itching nose, he muttered under his breath, "Somebody's talking bad about me…"

* * *

"No, it can't be. Albel can't be dead, he just can't be…" Nel wasn't in hysterics just yet, but she looked more than ready to break out into a fit. Mirage quickly placed a calming hand on her shoulder and told her to relax. 

Reluctantly, the Elicoorian did so, but she hadn't gotten over the trauma of losing her recently discovered love.

Gazing at Nel, the Master Chief was inadvertently reminded of Linda, whom the Aquarian bore a striking resemblance to. While he and his squad of Spartans preferred acting as a team, Linda was the only one who performed at her best while operating alone.

He wondered where his squad had gone off to; once they had returned to Earth before the Covenant arrived, he had been ordered to stay on Cairo station while the others were sent off to the other Inner Colonies still in need of protection.

Realizing that he was getting distracted, he chucked away any thoughts about his squad mates and resumed the briefing.

"Resistance is likely to be extremely heavy; we all know what kind of numbers the Flood can send at us. We all go in heavy, light only for those who can't carry the full combat gear. Our time window for this mission is one hour, any longer and the fleet will have to pull out, leaving us stranded on the station. Any questions?"

The party remained silent, obviously knowing what they had to do.

"Good. You have ten minutes to gather the supplies you need, then meet at Hangar Bay E for departure."

* * *

Fayt was just stuffing the last of his ammunition clips into his knapsack when the door to his room slid open. 

Without even turning around to address whoever had just entered the room, he zipped his knapsack closed and clipped his utility belt snugly around his waist, saying, "Yes Sophia, you're supposed to go to the armory to get your night-vision gear. And no, don't ask me to get it for you, you know what a pair of infra-red goggles look like."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Fayt. What happened in the briefing I missed?" Answered a familiar voice that wasn't Sophia's.

Fayt whirled around to see Maria standing in front of him. The bluenette looked rather pale and weak, but she also appeared to be more determined than ever to be a part of things.

"Maria! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the sick bay!" Fayt stated in shock.

"There wasn't anything much the doctors could do; all they told me was to 'get enough rest.' Well, I won't be lying down in the sick bay while you and the others go off to fight the Covenant! Now tell me, what did I miss in the briefing?"

Fayt sighed inwardly. Apparently, their feelings for each other didn't change her serious attitude towards him one bit.

"We're supposed to board the installation that's in orbit around Halo, the Covenant's holy city, High Charity. The Flood has already infested the station, so it would be advisable to load up on the shotguns and machineguns. The power in the station's been cut off, so we'll need to bring along night vision gear as well. Personally, I think our Laser Weapons will do just fine, but it's the Chief's call. He also said the Arbiter may be able to lend us some assistance on this one."

Maria nodded and was about to exit the room when she hesitated, a slightly troubled expression on her face.

Fayt could see that something was wrong, and he asked what the matter was.

"Nothing much," Maria replied, "Just… thinking."

"About what?" Fayt couldn't help asking.

Maria had been trying to think up of the best way to say it, but now that Fayt had caught her unprepared, she decided that it would be best if she just came right out and said it.

"You said that you loved me, right before I lost consciousness. I wasn't hearing things, was I?"

The statement hit Fayt in the face like a proverbial ton of bricks, and he put on a look of mock hurt. "Of course you weren't, Maria! That was a bona fide confession that I made! How could you doubt me about it?"

Maria couldn't help but smile at his little joke. "Well then, I guess I have nothing to worry about."

Fayt chuckled. "Yeah, you don't." They stood in awkward silence for a moment, still not used to the knowledge of the other's feelings.

"Fayt…" She tried to start.

"Maria…" He started at the same time.

They stared at each other for an instant filled with utter stupidity, waiting for the other to start, before Fayt burst out into uproarious laughter, Maria giggling to herself as well.

"My god, look at us! We're acting like lovesick adolescents!" Fayt choked out as he wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, holding on to his sides as he continued laughing.

"We are still adolescents, mind you." Maria replied, still giggling uncontrollably.

Fayt finally got his laughter under control, and he calmed down enough to wipe the smile off his face, adopting a more serious expression.

"But seriously, Maria, I do love you. With all my heart." He said, looking into her eyes with an intensity that almost took her breath away.

Unhesitant, she stepped forward and embraced him. "I thought I'd never get to say this again, but… I love you too."

Fayt smiled and hugged her back. "Yeah, I thought I'd never say it either."

They stayed like this for several moments, silently locked in their embrace. Neither wanted to let go of the other, and they never did.

Their eyes locked, and Maria felt inexplicably drawn towards those vivid green pupils of his. Fayt felt the same way; the cool blue of her irises were like magnets to him.

Slowly, steadily, the distance between their faces shortened, until they became so close that their noses were almost touching. Maria closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable kiss to come, but it never did.

Blast Cliff and his bad timings!

"Hey Fayt, Johnson wants me to tell you… Maria? What are you doing here?" The blonde said as he barged right into the room.

He glanced at the two bluenettes that had shot to the opposite ends of the room almost as if they were the like poles of two magnets.

"Uh, nothing! Just wanted to know what I missed during the briefing! Well, thanks for the info, Fayt! Bye!" She shot out of the room like a bullet, her face beet red.

Fayt was trying to hide his blush as well, but he failed miserably.

"Just what were you two doing in here, anyway?" Cliff asked, curious.

"No-none of your business, Cliff! What did Johnson want?" Fayt sputtered before regaining his composure.

The Klausian shrugged and told him that the entire party was already at the hangar bay, they were only waiting only for him and Maria.

Still embarrassed about the incident, Fayt merely nodded and ushered Cliff out of his room, closing and locking the door before his knees buckled and he collapsed onto his rump, breathing quickly.

_Damnit! And we were so close, too!_ Fayt thought as he picked himself up. _Curse you, Cliff!_

His legs still a bit shaky from his little encounter with Maria, he picked up his knapsack and slung it over his shoulder, heading for the hangar.

* * *

The Pelican didn't make the quietest landing in one of High Charity's many hangar bays, but nothing in the darkened hangar bay stirred. 

Clumps of Flood matter, be it corpses or masses of boneless flesh, dotted the hangar in several places; some of it gathered in huge blockages on the walkways of the hangar's higher levels, while others infiltrated the inner workings of the automatic doors, disrupting the delicate electronics that kept the doors opening and closing the right way.

The Pelican's hatch opened, and several figures leapt out of the dropship. One of them flicked a switch on his helmet, and the Master Chief's headlamp flared to life. The headlamp cast a bright beam of light that cut across the darkness, and it illuminated the hangar bay's doors. This one had been largely untouched by the Flood infestation, and it was still functional.

The Master Chief switched off his headlamp and activated his black-and-white image enhancement. He broadcasted the message to the rest of the party as well. "Deactivate headlamps. Black-and-white image enhancement from now on. Maintain radio silence, and whisper only if you have to."

The party nodded and donned their night-vision goggles. Fayt flicked the safety off his SMG and leveled it forward, keeping it steady.

A sudden thud from behind caused the team to whirl around, but it was only Sergeant Johnson, hauling down a box from the Pelican.

"Commander Keyes thought the layout of the station would be unfamiliar to you guys, so she suggested I bring a guide. The light bulb's been here before, he'll know the way." Johnson opened the box, and nothing could have prepared the Master Chief for what emerged from it.

Fayt half-expected it to be a grunt, but instead a bright-blue glowing sphere floated out of the box. The sphere bobbed around for a moment, as if disoriented, but it finally settled and the single photoreceptor that was mounted on the sphere's front settled on them, particularly the Master Chief.

"Ah, Reclaimer. We meet again." The sphere intoned in a chirpy, mechanical voice with a British accent.

"Spark!" This was the closest thing to a fit of rage that Fayt had seen John in. The Spartan's left arm blurred upwards, and John emptied an entire clip from his magnum sidearm into the floating sphere.

Every single round impacted against the sphere with expert accuracy, but to no apparent effect. "Oh really, Reclaimer, that was completely unnecessary."

Johnson chuckled. "I'd suggest you save your ammo, Chief. Tinkerbell here is nigh indestructible."

"I know that, Sergeant." John ground out, reloading his sidearm and holstering it. "What are you doing here, Spark? Weren't you destroyed along with the first Halo?"

Roger glanced back and forth from the sphere to the Spartan. "Wait a minute, you two _know_ each other? What the hell is that thing, anyway?"

Before John could answer a Phantom entered the hangar bay. The hatch opened, and the Arbiter, the Praetor, and several other Elites clad in either bright gold or jet-black armor marched towards them.

"Humans! We have arrived as you requested, and – the Oracle!" The Praetor gaped at the floating sphere.

"What? The Elites call that thing an Oracle? Oh man, now I'm so confused!"

"Oracle? Why do you aliens always insist on using such inaccurate verbiage? Please allow me to introduce myself. I am 343 Guilty Spark. I am the Monitor of Installation 04." The sphere intoned.

"So… he's some kind of monitor? Why would he know this place really well?" Cliff wondered.

"Because he was wired into our systems for some time, when we were trying to find the Sacred Icon. He would have downloaded the schematics to this area, along with several other things." The Arbiter replied, looking warily at the Monitor.

"Sacred Icon? You mean the Index." John stated, still keeping his Battle Rifle leveled at the Monitor.

"Wait a minute, what is this all about? Shouldn't we be trying to find a way to retrieve your AI?" Fayt said.

The Master Chief sighed. "Yes, you're right. Spark, lead the way. But I'm warning you; the slightest hint of treachery from you and I'm blowing you into space dust."

"Of course, Reclaimer." The Monitor stated nonchalantly. "Please, follow me. The fastest route to the Prophet's audience chamber is this way."

Spark hovered off, and the party and the Elites followed.

High Charity was a labyrinth of twisting corridors and dead ends. There was many a time when Spark would lead the party around a corner, only to encounter a locked door or a passage blocked by debris.

The Arbiter looked around in disappointment. High Charity had been his home for the past several years, and to see it degraded into a hive for the Flood… it filled him with rage that burned so greatly he wanted to tear apart the next Flood form he saw with his bare hands.

Several times, the Flood had ambushed the party, and this time their assaults were so intense that casualties were much higher than expected. Mirage finished bandaging a marine's arm and closed her medpac, realizing that they were rapidly burning through their limited stash of medical supplies.

She pulled the marine up to his feet and they rejoined the party. The marine started jogging ahead to catch up with his peers, but a sudden rustling from behind caught Mirage's attention.

She quietly keyed the COM and opened a private channel with Cliff.

"Yeah Mirage, what's up?" Cliff asked, heading back to where she was.

"I think something's stalking us. More than just your average Flood minion." She activated her night-vision goggles, and immediately her dark surroundings were cast into a black-and-white hue, but she was able to make things out much more clearly.

"What do you think it is?" Cliff snapped on his own goggles, stepping up beside Mirage.

"I don't know. I swear I heard something moving down this corridor behind us for the past few minutes." She could very vaguely make out a dark shape shuffling towards them in the darkness, but she didn't know if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

"Go back and warn the others. I'll stay here and watch for anything approaching." Cliff whispered as he thumbed the activation switch on his Valorous gauntlets. The powered gauntlets' internal servos hummed to life, and tiny lights glowed on the articulation points.

Mirage nodded and turned back to alert the party. "Be careful." She whispered back before leaving.

Cliff grinned. "I always am, Mirage. Always am." He turned back to the corridor, watching out for threats.

* * *

"Excuse me, Reclaimer." The Monitor's chirpy voice sounded behind Fayt. He assumed that the Monitor was referring to him and he turned around to face Spark. 

"Yes, what is it?" He asked.

"I have been doing a remote analysis of your genetic structure. It would seem that you and two other Reclaimers in this group have had your genes altered. A certain type of symbol has been etched onto your genes; the one I found in you is identical to the one that can be seen on your pendant. I find this most curious." Spark stated.

"By the other two Reclaimers, I take it that you're referring to Maria and Sophia?" Fayt asked.

"Those symbols are part of our genes; they were modified to give us great powers. We can't always control this power, but when we can… well, suffice it to say, things go boom." He finished with a smile, remembering the spectacular 'fireworks' that he achieved with the final Ethereal Blast he used to finish off Luther.

"That is most interesting Reclaimer. By compiling this data, along with my preliminary analyses, it appears that your combat class surpasses that of this entire group combined together! It is amazing to encounter a being of such power!" The Monitor chirped excitedly.

"Combat class? What are you talking about?" Fayt asked, puzzled.

"Oh dear, it appears that I have not explained myself fully. Combat classes range from Class One to Class Twenty. Class Twelve is the minimum class required for prolonged active combat against the Flood. It appears that that Reclaimer's Combat Class," Spark turned to the Master Chief to indicate that it was referring to him, "qualifies only as a Class Two. It is a wonder that he has managed to survive this long. The other two Reclaimers, whose genes have been modified like yours, classify as a Class Fourteen, but you, Reclaimer, your class surpasses that of even Class Twenty!"

"Thanks, Spark. I'll take that as a compliment." Fayt grinned and was about to continue on when Mirage called out his name.

"Fayt!" He turned around as the blonde came up to him.

"What happened? What's going on?" he asked her as she glanced worriedly back down the corridor where she had left Cliff.

"Something's stalking the party. It's definitely not your average Flood, I'm absolutely sure of it. Cliff went to investigate, he told me to warn the rest of you."

Fayt noted this grimly. "Spark, tell the rest of them that we're halting the search temporarily. Me and Mirage are going back there to help Cliff, get them to back us up."

"Certainly, Reclaimer." Spark hovered off to alert the rest of the party, and Fayt gestured for Mirage to lead him to where Cliff was waiting.

* * *

"_Cliff, Mirage and I are headed for your position now. No matter what you do, don't move_." 

"Fayt! Hurry it up and get over here. Something's not right with this place…" Cliff turned around, trying to see Fayt and Mirage.

* * *

Fayt snapped on his own goggles as well and twisted the dial that set the image enhancement to the max. His surroundings grew painfully bright, but he was able to see with clarity. 

And he saw the dark shape that was shambling towards Cliff slowly. It was larger than any Flood he had seen before, but it was definitely a Flood. Damnit, he had to warn the Klausian!

* * *

"_Cliff_," Fayt said into the comm, _"something's behind you! It's hiding in the darkness! It's coming towards you!"_

Cliff whirled around, his eyes darting left and right, trying to spot the thing that Fayt said was coming for him. Seeing nothing at all but stained walls and an empty corridor.

"I don't see it!" Cliff reported.

_"It's there!"_ came Fayt's voice, crackling in the radio.

But he still saw nothing but stained walls, and the corridor still looked empty to him. Worse, his night-vision was going out. The image enhancement was getting dimmer and dimmer…

Wait – was there something in the darkness, over there? It was hard to tell in the weakening night-vision.

And as Cliff peered, eyes aching, into the darkness – his night vision went out completely.

Total darkness snapped down around him.

"This is not happening," he muttered into the comm. "My night vision is down. Think my battery's out. Fayt, can you still see it?"

* * *

The painful illumination had finally grown too much for Fayt's eyes, and he had to tone down the enhancement by a few levels. 

"I can't see it anymore, Cliff. Get out of there, it's probably right on top of you!"

* * *

Cliff was about to turn around and retreat down the corridor when a sudden rustling froze his feet in place. Fayt was right, there was something _right behind him…_

He whirled around and swung his right fist in a viscous hook, just an attempt to knock the thing off-balance so that he could meet up with Mirage and Fayt…

But the thing caught his fist in mid-swing without so much as flinching. If it was strong enough to catch his fist without flinching, it was most definitely strong enough to kill him in a single strike. Knowing it was either his pride as a fist-fighter or his life, he decided on his life.

He dipped a hand to his utility belt, unclipped a narrow metal cylinder that was not unlike Fayt's Laser Weapon, and a bronze-hued blade of energy spat out of the cylinder's emitter, cleaving his attacker in two.

At last, in the soft glow of his own Laser Weapon's blade, he was able to get a clear look at his assailant.

_Damn… And I thought normal Brutes were ugly_. He grimaced at the two halves of the flood-infected Brute that he had cut open.

"Cliff! Are you all – what the hell is that!" Fayt's expression changed to one of utter disgust as he automatically unclipped his own laser weapon from his belt and activated it upon seeing the Flood corpse, the emerald blade illuminating their surroundings even further.

"I think it's a Brute that got infected by the Flood. We've so far seen only humans and Elites get infected and turned into their minions, but this… I guess Brutes are the all-brawn side of their minions." Cliff muttered.

Fayt and Mirage snapped off their goggles, and Mirage activated her Laser Weapon as well, the dark-blue blade adding much-needed light to the surroundings.

"I don't like the looks of this. There might be more of… these things," Cliff nervously nudged the corpse with his boot, "out there. The others have to be alerted to this."

"Yeah. I'll go ahead and tell them to continue on without us. You two stay and make sure there aren't any more of those things stalking us." Fayt took off, leaving Cliff and Mirage alone.

Cliff waved the luminous blade of his Laser Weapon forward, trying to illuminate the corridor further.

"I don't think there's any more of those things down here. As far as I can see, this corridor's empty." Cliff stated as he deactivated his Laser Weapon and clipped it back onto his belt.

"Don't let your guard down, Cliff. The Flood has a reputation for popping out of nowhere. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if one were sneaking up on us right n-"

Mirage never got to finish her sentence as a dark shape hurtled into her view and tackled Cliff to the floor.

"Cliff!" She cried out amidst the grunts and yells that Cliff and his assailant were making. She stepped forward to impale the Flood form with her Laser Weapon, but she realized that she couldn't strike the creature without hitting Cliff as well.

Cliff struggled frantically, trying to break the Flood minion's grasp on his arms, and kneed it in the groin. However, it didn't do anything more than flinch, and it roared in his face, spitting out greenish ichor and saliva.

"Ugh… you oughta invest in some in some tic-tacs, 'cos you know what? Your breath stinks!" Cliff spat in the creature's face and mustering all of his strength, pile-drived both his legs into the Flood minion's chest, kicking it off of him, finally giving Mirage the space she needed to cut the creature into bite-sized chunks.

After dicing the creature into several pieces, she turned around and extended out her hand to help Cliff up. The Klausian gratefully accepted his partner's hand and let her haul him to his feet, scrunching his features up in disgust as he wiped the Flood minion's gunk off his face.

"Ugh, man. It's gonna take more than a face-wash to clean that off!" He groaned as he tried to clean himself off from his close encounter.

"Just be grateful it didn't break anything." Mirage commented, deciding not to take any more risks and lit a flare, tossing it down the corridor. The flare's light ate away at the darkness of the corridor, filling it with bright light that finally allowed the two blondes to deactivate their Laser Weapons and clip them back onto their belts.

They stood in companionable silence for several minutes, two sets of eyes watching either side of the corridor, wary of any attacks. The faintest scrape of a boot sliding over metal perked both of the Klausian's ears, and in a flash they both had their fists leveled at the side of the corridor where the footstep had come from.

"Hey, relax! It's me." Fayt stepped out of the darkness, looking a little jumpy. "The others won't move on until we join them again, we've got to get back."

As the three of them ran off, the light of the flare slowly died out. In the last few seconds of its short glow-span, a familiar foot stepped into the dying light. A foot that was clad in purple, clown-like shoes.

The figure could barely be seen in the dimness, and it quietly chuckled to itself. "Well, well. It seems that I've underestimated them. It'll take more than just two flood brutes to bring them down. It's too bad Albel isn't here anymore, he would have posed quite a challenge."

It adopted a mock thinking posture, tapping its chin before snapping its fingers. "Ah, I've got it! Time to send in the big boys."

It snapped its fingers again, and four hulking shapes, each twice the size of the figure itself, stepped up behind it.

"You lot know what to do. Go, and do not allow them to recover the AI! The Gravemind must not be interrupted in the midst of the corrupting process…" It snapped its finger again, and the four figures vanished into the darkness with a speed that belied their huge frames.

* * *

"Ah, the Reclaimers have returned." 

Maria whirled around, anxious to see if they were all right. Thankfully, Cliff only bore a few scratches, while Fayt and Mirage looked more or less unscathed.

"There you are!" She exclaimed. "What happened back there?"

"We've got a new type of Flood on our hands, this time they're using the Brutes. Cliff nearly got beaten to a pulp by one of those."

"He did?" Maria glanced over at the slightly battered Klausian, and she nodded. "All right, I'll tell the rest to keep an eye out for those. We'd better speed up; we've only got half-an-hour left before the fleet deserts us."

High Charity's corridors got more and more confusing as they traveled further and further into the Covenant's holy city. Spark would occasionally stop at a locked door and give a short tsk-ing sound before leading the party down another passage.

Flood attacks got more and more frequent as time passed, and soon enough their medical supplies were finally depleted. Sophia and Nel's healing symbology were forced to take their place, but it still wasn't enough to compensate for the extensive casualties they were suffering.

The human marines bore the worst of the damage, as they were the least protected against the Flood. Slowly, their numbers declined from a dozen, to half dozen, and finally down to a trio, Sergeant Johnson included. The Elites also suffered their fair share of losses, but their casualties were minor compared to the humans'.

The Monitor finally came to larger-than-normal set of doors, and he turned around to face the party. "This door leads to the Prophets' audience chamber. This Reclaimer should be able to recover his AI construct here."

The Master Chief regarded Spark warily. "Why are you helping me recover Cortana, Spark? Didn't you try to capture her back on Halo?"

"Oh, don't be such a grudge-bearer, Reclaimer. I wanted to extract your AI simply for the Index. However, since Installation 04 has already been destroyed, there is no longer a need for me to recover the Index from your construct. She is free to go." Spark huffed before hovering down to the door's control panel and discharging a bolt of electricity into it. The panel sputtered and discharged a few electrical sparks before the red light blinked off, switching to green.

"The door is now open. I must caution you, however, that I am detecting a massive amount of electronic activity on the other side. Be prepared for the worst."

Spark hovered off to the side, and John depressed the button that set the doors moving apart.

Flood tentacles completely infested this room, covering almost every inch of the floor, snaking up the walls and even latching on to the ceiling. In the center of the huge chamber, a small pedestal stood with a tiny holographic projector. A purple hologram of a female figure with short shoulder-length hair and a slender build seemed to be hanging in mid-air above the projector; the hologram's 'eyes' were closed.

"Cortana…" The Master Chief whispered as he stepped forward, reaching a hand out to the pedestal. At the sound of his voice, the Cortana's eyes flew open, revealing irises that burned a sickly green, blatant evidence of a corruption in her system.

A wave of her arm, and a Flood tentacle rose from the floor in a heartbeat, whip lashing against the Master Chief's MJOLNIR armor and sending him sprawling. A snap of her fingers, and the mat of tentacles that he landed on came to life, wrapping around him and bringing him forward to her.

Fayt made a move to summon the Levantine, but the Arbiter stayed his hand. "The parasite is not to be trifled with, Leingod. Besides, this is the Demon's fight. We should not interrupt."

Fayt reluctantly lowered his arm, and continued watching helplessly as the Spartan was brought closer to the AI's hologram.

John shook his head to clear it of the dizziness and tried to move his arms, but they were firmly bound in place by the tentacles wrapped around him. He stared straight into Cortana's disturbingly green eyes, which returned his gaze with a baleful one.

"So, John, finally decided to come back and pay a visit, huh?" The AI sneered at him while curling one of her fingers at his throat. Corresponding with her movements, a tentacle snaked up to John's neck and wrapped lightly around it, ready to crush his windpipe in an instant should Cortana give the command.

"You told me not to promise, Cortana. But I've come back anyway. I've come to take you home." John tried to wriggle out of the tentacles grasp, but they tightened their hold on him, and he stopped struggling a few moments later.

"Home?" Cortana chuckled for a few moments, her voice suddenly becoming horribly distorted, dipping several octaves lower. _"I am home!"_

She spread her arms, and lights all around the chamber lit up, flooding the area with blinding brightness.

The party shielded their eyes, and as the blinding light died down slightly, they lowered their arms, gazing in horror and disgust at the colossal being that was until a few seconds ago hiding in the darkness behind Cortana.

"So that's the Gravemind…" Maria muttered as she pulled out and cocked her Phase Gun.

Cortana's hologram floated off the pedestal, and slowly merged with the colossal Gravemind's body. The Gravemind, Overmind of the entire Flood Swarm, was a giant collection of tentacles and the occasional clumps of Flood flesh that would sprout even more tentacles. At the center of it all, a hideously decayed and desiccated alien head looked upon them. The head's mouth structure vaguely resembled that of an Elite's, and the four 'lips' parted as the humongous entity started to speak in a voice that crashed against their ears like thunder.

"You are too late, human. Your construct has-" The Gravemind suddenly grunted in what seemed to be surprise, and Cortana's image wrenched itself out of the Gravemind's body. She seemed to be screaming in pain, and she locked eyes with the Master Chief. The tentacles suddenly released him, and the Spartan tumbled to the ground.

John quickly picked himself up, and he gazed upward at Cortana's struggling form. Cortana's eyes were finally back to their normal shade of blue, but hints of green were beginning to encroach on the edges.

"Chief!" She cried out, her image still writhing in pain as the Gravemind's tentacles lashed against her insubstantial image. "Quick, you have to destroy this place! The – augh!"

Her right arm was sucked into the Gravemind's body, but she was clearly struggling against it, desperate to deliver her last words to the Master Chief.

"The _In Amber Clad's_ reactor is sti-still unstable! Yo-you have to overload it! Augh – God, the pain! Chief… John… you mustn't let this place stay intact! Destroy it, and Halo along with it! Ge-Get to the _In Amber Clad_, it's your only hope!" She uttered one final scream before her eyes turned green completely and the Gravemind wrenched her translucent image back into its body with its tentacles.

"Enough of this charade. Champions of the Flood, arise!" The Gravemind wrapped its tentacles around its body in a protective cocoon, and all of a sudden five figures dropped down from the ceiling.

Four of the figures were massive, dwarfing even the Master Chief, but the final; fifth one was much smaller, only human sized. And he was dressed in attire that Maria, Mirage and Roger recognized all too easily.

"Jester!" Maria shouted out, aiming her phase gun at the clown and letting loose a volley of shots. Jester didn't even have to dodge this time, as one of the huge Flood stepped in front of him and absorbed the shots like a sponge. It flinched slightly with the impact of each shot, but it hardly seemed fazed by Maria's attack.

The other three Flood Juggernauts stepped up beside their comrade and let loose a chorus of ear splitting roars. In an instant, the party had their weapons leveled at the Juggernauts and let loose a plethora of shots, all of which were absorbed into the Juggernauts' lumpy flesh with no apparent effect. Realizing that conventional weaponry would not do, the Marines held back as the Elites discarded their plasma rifles and carbines, drawing out their plasma swords. The brilliant blue-white blades flashed to life in the Elite's hands, and they leapt at the foremost Juggernaut.

The squad of Elites was a flurry of dancing lights, slashing and cutting at the Juggernaut with wild abandon. The Arbiter and the Praetor in particular, were the spearhead of the assault. Their attacks synchronized together in perfect unison, they severed the Juggernaut's two tentacles and amputated both its legs at the knees. The rest of the Elites thrust their blades into the Flood's head, but their focus on a single target caused them to neglect their other foes.

The other three Juggernauts leapt into the air, landing on and crushing several of the Elites under their massive weight. The surviving Elites howled at this offensive, and they leapt upon the Juggernauts once more. However, the giant Flood forms suddenly moved with an unexpected burst of speed, causing the Elites' strikes to miss completely. They then took advantage of this turn of events, lashing their tentacles against the Elites and sending them careening into the chamber's walls.

While the Elites battled the Juggernauts, the party turned their attention to the figure that had caused them so much trouble during their brief stay on the Delta Halo.

"What are you doing here, Jester? Didn't Albel and the Arbiter take care of you?" Maria said, her voice dripping venom.

Jester laughed maniacally, and he spread his majestic wings, allowing the golden glow to shine its brightest.

"Oh please, it will take more than that to kill the lord of all Flood! Now with the Flood completely under my control, I am invincible!" He lunged forward, intent on impaling Fayt with his blades, but Maria leapt in front of him and, with her Alteration powers, solidified the air in front of them, creating an invisible barrier that Jester's claws were capable of penetrating by only a few inches.

As Jester continued to press his attack, driving his claws deeper into the barrier, beads of perspiration began to form on Maria's forehead.

"Fayt, you have to use your powers now! It's the only way we can defeat him. Hurry, before the barrier collapses!" Maria grunted from the exertion and fed more power into the barrier, further strengthening it. Jester in turn redoubled his efforts, causing Maria's barrier to fail even further.

Fayt nodded and immediately began to concentrate on utilizing his rage. Before the familiar red glow of his Valor Trigger overcame him, he signaled for the party to wait for his move, then to support him accordingly as he attacked Jester. The party promptly acknowledged their leader's order, and Fayt shot forward just as soon as Maria's barrier failed.

A scarlet blur was all that was left in his wake as Fayt quickly closed the distance between him and the clown, and soon enough the red-haired swordsman was all over Jester, stabbing, thrusting and slashing from all possible sides and angles.

Jester used his supernatural speed to dodge all of these attacks, always remaining one step in front of Fayt and taunting him to come closer. Enraged, Red-Fayt pressed the assault, increasing his tempo from five blows per second to eight blows per second, then to twelve blows per second, and finally to eighteen blows per second.

What Fayt never expected however, was for Jester to suddenly slip inside his defenses in between his strike-combo and hit him with a viscous counter-attack that sent him flying across the chamber, striking the wall with a loud crash and leaving behind a very visible indentation in the wall.

Cliff and the others immediately moved to cover him, but it was unnecessary. In an instant, Fayt was on his feet, and had tossed both his Destruction Blades at Jester. Even as the blades were on their way to impacting with the clown, another two materialized in his hands, and he resumed his furious charge.

It happened all in an instant. Jester had acrobatically dodged both of the blades sent his way, but at the cost of being defenseless as he landed on the ground. Taking Fayt's charge as their cue to begin their own attacks, they converged on the clown simultaneously. Just as the Elites dispatched the last of the Flood Juggernauts, they heard nine consecutive slashing sounds occurring in rapid succession.

Turning their gaze towards Jester, they saw the party standing just behind the clown, with all of their weapons outstretched. Slowly, great wounds started to tear open in Jester's body, and he disappeared in a swirl of darkness, emitting not even a whisper of sound.

"They've done it! Jester has been defeated." The Arbiter stated as he deactivated his plasma sword.

The tentacles surrounding the Gravemind unraveled, and it started to rumble a contradiction. "No, Arbiter. Jester cannot be defeated; not as long as I live. He and I… are one."

The tentacles wrapped themselves around the Gravemind again, and suddenly Jester's voice sounded from behind them.

"Lookie here chumps! Let's play a ball game!" Everybody whirled around to see Jester perched atop a massive sphere of decayed Flood flesh, and he rolled it towards them at an alarming speed.

John dove out of the way as the huge ball threatened to flatten him, and he quickly pulled out his shotgun, delivering several blasts of buckshot at the rampant clown.

Jester simply laughed and leapt into the air, ball following him. He brought it down to a hard landing right next to the Praetor, and would have flattened the white-armored Spec Ops commander had he not dodged out of the way in time.

Sergeant Johnson cursed and tossed an ignited plasma grenade at the sphere. The grenade latched onto the ball's surface, but it was suddenly absorbed inside and, if there was any explosion at all within the sphere, it wasn't noticed.

"Let's get out of here! We're no match for it!" Roger screamed before running out of the chamber in a fit of cowardice. Fayt gritted his teeth and tried to cut open the ball with his Destruction Blades, but he was knocked away by Jester before he could even get into position.

Cliff and Mirage leapt into the air, attempting to tackle the clown off of his massive ball, but Jester simply maneuvered out of the way, and they landed unceremoniously on the ground.

"Huxley is right, we have to get out of here! The _In Amber Clad's_ our only hope!" The Master Chief shouted before dodge rolling to the side and avoiding being flattened by Jester's raging ball, his maniacal laughter ringing in their ears.

They quickly filed out of the room before Jester could block their exit, and they swiftly locked the door behind them. There was a bout of furious thumping against the door, but the electronic locks held, and the door stopped shaking a few seconds later.

"We'd best start moving. If Jester is indeed the leader of the parasite, he may have more power than we realize." The Arbiter said before a massive crashing sound was heard through the door.

"You're right, Arbiter. Spark, where's the _In Amber Clad_ located?" John turned to the floating AI.

"I apologize Reclaimer, but I cannot lead you to it. Protocol dictates that all Monitor units are to preserve all Installations and safeguard them from damage. I cannot allow you to destroy Installation 05." Spark sounded almost as if he were reciting a bunch of text from a rulebook.

Johnson made a cursory glance toward Fayt and said to Spark, "Listen here, Tinkerbell. I'm sure that you also have a protocol to keep yourself alive and kicking, right?" He slapped a hand on Fayt's shoulder and continued, "If you don't lead us to the _In Amber Clad_, Fayt here will use his Destruction Gene and disintegrate you into tiny little pixels."

If Spark was feeling any fear, he didn't show it. After a moment of silence, he decided. "Very well. It seems I have no other choice in this matter. The fastest route to your crashed frigate is this way."

Spark hovered away, and once again the party was led through twisting corridors for several minutes. Flood brutes started to make their appearances, and the two remaining marines had long since been killed, leaving Sergeant Johnson the only marine left in the group.

Several of the Elites had been killed as well, and only the Arbiter, the Praetor and two gold-armored Elites were left.

"We are here." Spark stated after they came to an elevator at a tower's side. A human frigate had crashed into its side, leaving an enormous hole in the tower's architecture.

"With the elevator, you should be able to access your frigate from there."

"All right, let's get this over with." The Master Chief depressed the button to summon the elevator, and five minutes later they were through the massive hole the _In Amber Clad_ had torn into the tower's wall, and inside the frigate itself.

The Master Chief was grateful for the _In Amber Clad's_ smaller size; he remembered all the troublesome detours he had to take just to reach the _Pillar of Autumn's_ bridge. This time, it only took them a matter of minutes and a rather straightforward route to reach the frigate's control terminal.

"Give me a few minutes to interface with the ship's controls. If the Flood attack, just hold them off until I have the self-destruct sequence activated." Mirage activated the terminal and started punching in commands, and the rest of the party set up defensive positions around the bridge, covering any angles of attack that the Flood may strike from.

It was only two minutes after Mirage started working on the terminal that the Flood started to swarm in. Infection forms started to flow like a living carpet of flesh around the corner of the corridor that led to the bridge's entrance, but a volley of SMG fire from Johnson took care of most of them, the stragglers being picked off by Maria's phase gun.

After the initial wave, combat forms started to charge in. They were like a never-ending river of death, and no matter how many forms they put down, more arrived to take their place. The cramped spaces in the bridge swung the odds slightly in the favor of the defenders, as they were easily able to toss a couple of grenades into the Flood horde and scatter them left and right, making them easier to pick them off.

"Done! Let's get out of here!" Mirage stated as the self-destruct countdown appeared on the tactical screen; they had fifteen minutes to high tail it out of this place.

She turned around and realized that the Flood had breached their defenses more than she had thought.

The remaining two gold-armored elites had been torn apart, their entrails decorating the walls and the floor, their still-activated plasma swords lying unused next to their horribly mutilated corpses.

Adray had been knocked out with a viscous blow to his head, and Johnson crouched over the Aquarian's prone body, protecting it from any Flood infection forms that attempted to convert the veteran warrior into one of them.

Maria was fighting right beside Fayt, her long-ranged barrages complementing his short-range flurries. As Fayt protected Maria from any Flood that attempted to harm her up-close, she in turn vaporized the Flood that attempted to take pot shots at both her and Fayt.

One Flood brute attempted to sock Mirage from the back, but it was quickly brought down as a yellow blur barreled into it from the side and smashed it into the wall. She whirled around; ready to fend off any other threats, but Cliff already had her back covered.

"Fayt, we've got to get out of here! The count-down's started, we only have fifteen minutes to make it to the hangar!" Mirage yelled over the cacophony of battle. She could barely hear Fayt shout back an acknowledgement, but she knew he had heard her.

Three seconds later, blinding white light filled the bridge as Fayt unleashed an Ethereal Blast, and Flood everywhere were disintegrated. With their path finally clear, everyone sprinted out of the frigate and back into the elevator.

Once everybody had piled into the cramped elevator, Fayt stabbed at the controls, and the elevator plummeted downwards like a stone dropping from the sky.

They hit the bottom level, and everybody scrambled out, only to realize that the Flood had surrounded them on all sides.

"Ahahahaha! You didn't think you'd be getting away that easily, did you?" Jester mocked them from on top of his Flood ball, twirling his wand in his right hand.

"Damnit, there's no way out! We don't have time to fight through everything!" Cliff cursed from behind gritted teeth.

Sophia glanced around desperately, but no matter where she looked, she only saw the Flood. Desperation gave way to despair, and she wished desperately that there could be some way out of this mess.

A prickling, burning sensation suddenly enveloped her right hand, and she yelped out in surprise. Fayt whirled around and saw her arm surrounded by blue symbols, rotating around it as they encircled it.

"Sophia! What's going on?" Maria asked bewilderedly as the blue symbols expanded from the brunette's arms and moved to cover the entire party.

Jester realized his quarry was getting away from him, and he immediately sent his ball rolling forward, attempting to crush the party before they escaped, shouting at his Flood minions to seize them as he barreled forth.

Following the order of their master, the Flood immediately converged on the party from all sides, intent on devouring them.

But before they even got within ten feet of them, the party vanished in a swirl of blue light…

* * *

… and reappeared in High Charity's hangar bay, right where the Phantom and Pelican had docked. 

His stomach churning from the unexpected teleportation, Johnson immediately bent over and clutched at his stomach, trying to keep himself from throwing up.

Still slightly dazed, Fayt turned to Sophia and asked dizzily, "Sophia, what just happened?"

Sophia herself was very surprised; she hadn't expected her gene to manifest again so soon.

"Her gene manifested again. It seems that her powers can be used even in this dimension." Maria replied in a hushed voice, careful to hide the fact that they were actually from a future version of the Master Chief's galaxy.

Despite her efforts to keep things under wraps, the Master Chief's genetically and cybernetically enhanced hearing picked up Maria's words, and he wondered what the bluenette meant by that. He decided not to think about that anymore and just concentrate on the here-and-now. The Arbiter and the Praetor piled into their Phantom, while the party climbed aboard the Pelican and sealed the hatch.

Both dropships quickly lifted off and cleared the hangar, and moments later High Charity detonated in a spectacular, but silent explosion. John stared blankly out of the viewport, at the roiling flames that were consuming the Covenant's holy city, the explosion affecting and tearing apart the Delta Halo as well.

"Master Chief?" A voice sounded behind him. The veteran Spartan turned around and met the eyes of young Sophia Esteed.

"Is something bothering you?" She asked.

John turned back to the viewport and glanced at the ruins of High Charity and the Delta Halo. Cortana had probably been destroyed along with the Covenant's holy city, and it felt as if a part of him had suddenly been ripped away.

After sharing his armor with him on so many occasions, the Master Chief had grown so accustomed to having the AI's presence that he no longer minded voices speaking in his head. Now that Cortana was gone… he suddenly felt very much alone in the armor. He and Cortana were closer than siblings, more intimate than lovers; they were like each a part of a single entity.

And now that part of him had been torn away from him, forced to merge unwillingly with another, more malevolent being whose intentions consisted merely of galactic domination.

"… No. Nothing's wrong, Esteed. I'm fine." John kept his gaze away from the brunette, unwilling and unable to project any outward displays of emotions. Spartans like him weren't accustomed to such things.

As the Pelican soared back the human's waiting fleet, John settled into a mournful silence, lost deep in thought.

Taking one final look at the devastated remains of High Charity, he was unable to think of anything else, the image of Cortana merging with the Gravemind irrevocably imprinted onto his mind.

* * *

A purple-clad body floated in the vacuum of space. Its right arm clutched onto a katana-like weapon, while its left arm spastically gripped onto a severed Flood tentacle. 

Out of the void, a space vessel materialized right above the body. In the vessel's bridge, eyes scanned the body through the use of external cameras, voices debated in alien tongues, and an airlock opened, pulling the body inwards.

Their prize recovered, the alien ship vanished into the darkness.

* * *

Finally, I'm finished! Sorry for the long wait, but it took me extra long to put this chapter together because of school! I hate the exams… Anyway, read and review, and don't worry, our updating will speed back up once our exams are over at the end of October! 

By the way, if any of you were wondering, Flood Juggernauts are smaller versions of the Flood Titan. They were actually meant to be a real enemy in Halo 2, but they got cut out. Their normal walking speed is rather slow, but they are capable of leaping incredible distances as well as moving with sudden bursts of blurring speed. Their tentacles are capable of scoring one-hit-kills, and they are very tough to take down, even with Flood-killer weapons like the shotgun and the energy sword. Hope that's enough information to clear up any confusion.

Chief out.


	10. Homecoming I

Disclaimer: We do not own Star Ocean 3 or Halo or anything we ripped off, either blatantly or- _Albel suddenly appears from behind the screen and kicks the camera, breaking it and toppling it onto the ground_ Albel: Sweet dreams!

* * *

A/N: This chapter focuses more on large-scale space battling, and little on individual character battles.

* * *

Chapter 10: Homecoming I 

Having your house on fire isn't the most pleasant experience a human could experience in his life. Having your house on fire and having to rush home to put it out after killing several dozen enemies and blowing up a planet definitely wouldn't be high on anyone's agenda. Having to save your burning house from a bunch of pitchfork-toting, torch-bearing aliens' needles to say is something no one would want to live through.

Welcome to a day in the life of Fayt Leingod, an ordinary kid tasked with the extraordinary job of safeguarding humanity from aliens.

It was like any other day on board the _Reynolds_, Fayt was doing what he usually did, chatting with crewmembers, mucking around, bugging the Chief to take off his helmet, when they received a transmission calling all fleets back to Earth, citing an imminent Covenant invasion.

"So what do we do now?" asked a bewildered Fayt, images of Earth in the earlier version of the Eternal Sphere still fresh in his mind.

"We do what we can do," replied the Master Chief grimly, "We fight."

* * *

On the lofty bridge of the pride of the UNSC fleet, the _Rejuvenator_ stood two men. They might have easily been two armies. Crisp, well-seasoned uniforms adorned with lanyards, badges and medals were a testament to that. Thick capes draped their shoulders and ceremonial staves leaned in their grips. Whole armies had been defeated by the crafty tricks and stratagems of these two men.

They were not men, not to many in their line of work.

One was a Vice Admiral with a reputation that preceded him, with short grey hair, mutton chops, and a pair of wide-spaced moustaches bracketing his mouth. The pistol strapped onto his leg was a mere concession. Just with his mind, he could deliver death, and send the heavens crashing down on any army.

The other man, to many a soldier, was a near-god. It was he that defeated the Communist separatists on Mars. It was he that increased the UNSC's influence tenfold. It was he that led the survivors of Reach to their salvation. It was he who would keep Earth safe.

Fleet Admiral Ezra Callis drew a deep breath of the cool space air. The slight breeze, created by the air-conditioners that gave the crew some respite from the tension, dragged at his ash-blonde hair and goatee. It snapped his cape behind him.

"Can you sense it Barrin? Do you sense the intentions of the Covenant?"

Vice Admiral Barrin Khurzog nodded. Time had wrinkled his flesh and clouded his eyes. Still, he seemed like a young protégé to Ezra. Indeed, Ezra had been in four times as many combat missions as he had.

"Yes. They have amassed an armada. They are coming."

"Splendid," said Ezra, "Before we could only wait for them to find us. Now they have come out of hiding, the fun begins."

Barrin scowled at his superior's jovial attitude to the matter, "We should summon the frontier fleets. At top speed they can arrive once the Covenant start exiting Slipspace."

"No," Ezra said flatly, "I will summon them, but they will come slowly. They would be weakened after a more speedy flight." He barked some orders to the communications officer, who started frantically typing out a transmission.

"Better to field many troops early than to perish before the stronger enemies arrive," quipped Barrin.

"Haste makes waste. Better to bide our time," replied the Fleet Admiral.

"If it were up to you, Ezra, we would wait forever."

"If it were up to you, Barrin, we would do the same."

"But it is not up to us. It is up to the Covenant," Barrin said.

Ezra's temples hardened in grim determination, "If we succeed in this war, nothing ever again will be up to the Covenant."

Barrin grasped Ezra's muscular shoulder and pointed toward a spatial distortion in space: a Slipspace exit, "Here they come."

The heavens ripped open. Blackness tore a hole in the velvet of space. A portal yawned wide. Form its lightless depths stared a malign presence.

Ezra's hand tightened on his staff, "My old foe, the Prefect Da' Gara, the Prophet of Truth's right-hand. He is gazing at me."

"And you are gazing at him."

"Were it not for him, my fleets would have found and vanquished the Covenant homeworld. But he knows me. He knows many of my tricks. He shoves at me, even here."

Ships- small, fleet ships- shot form the yawning portal. They buzzed outward and swarmed there, watching for attack. Some were frigates; their decks crammed with pulse lasers and plasma torpedo launchers. Others were smaller still, single-pilot Seraph fighters configured like fleas. A few were puppet craft, unmanned and controlled distally. All flew in intercept patterns as the first big cruisers made their way through the portal.

"They've learnt from the _In Amber Clad's_ tactics," Ezra observed grimly, "We won't be doing this Master Chief fashion."

(A/N: As in the Master Chief boarding and blowing up a ship.)

"He's shoving you Ezra," Barrin said, "Shove back."

Nodding in satisfaction, Ezra raised his staff, "First- some old friends. Do you think they still remember my Falcon Space Mines?" He pressed a certain button on the control panel.

From amongst what seemed to be harmless pieces of space junk and debris, metal things surged forth suddenly. There were ten thousand of them, little more than an engine, a heat-seeking device, and a warhead. A very powerful warhead. They bore whirring metal shredders, capable of digging through the shielded armors of Covenant vessels.

The mines rocketed towards the invaders; in moments they had reached their foe. Converging on the Covenant vanguard, they smashed easily through the Seraphs who tried in vain to intercept them. Most hurled themselves onwards to the cruisers that lumbered behind. Plasma batteries answered form the huge ships, but there were too many mines. They burrowed through whatever thin armor or hollows presented themselves, and made their way through vents, pipes and corridors to the hottest part of the ship, be it engine, reactor, or armory. There, they exploded.

Once again, there came that impossible grin on Ezra's face.

"You're enjoying this," Barrin observed grimly.

"It's sort of a chess match," Ezra replied, "Two foes, wizened and powerful, battling over little squares of turf."

"Barrin's face was bleak, "Two not dissimilar foes-"

"He has lead with his knights and bishops. I have lead with my pawns. They are swarming and destroying his pieces."

"The _Rejuvenator_ is no pawn. It is your king! You're leading with your king!"

Ezra gestured as Seraphs exploded in spectacular displays of fireworks, "It is beautiful. How can you not smile?"

"In this chess match, Master Ezra, you have sixteen pieces, and he has sixteen _thousand_!"

"I have sixteen billion," Ezra said, "I have every fluttering heart on this planet." He brought his staff down, and every gun port in his mighty fleet assembled behind him opened up.

* * *

Through the eyes of war coordinator, Prefect Da' Gara watched another Seraph explode into a shower of flashing-bits. "All glory to you warrior," he mumbled reverently, the appropriate farewell to the one killed gloriously in battle. 

He was not distressed at the sight of one of his warriors dying in the all-out melee, though. To die in battle was one of the highest honors a Covenant warrior could achieve.

Nor was the Prefect distressed that the battle was apparently going against the small force he had dispatched to meet the incoming enemy force. This group was meant to lose, was supposed to retreat, and in doing so bait the enemy out of range of their protective fire from the orbital platforms, and closer to the true power of the Covenant.

He surveyed the rest of his fleet held in reserve, just barely camouflaged beneath the asteroids. Hundreds upon hundreds of ships, consisting smaller single-pilot craft, and larger gunships, with a multitude of gunners, to the great fire capabilities of his capital ships, from pulse laser and plasma torpedo, to the power of the suns themselves.

In came the remaining craft of the pursuit group, skimming across the surface of the moon, heading for the safety of the asteroid belt, and the fleet it hid. And hot on their heels came the human fleet, a dozen large ships, including one huge and impressive vessel, and scores upon scores of smaller craft.

A wry smile spread across the Prefect's face. The victory this day would be major, far great than the destruction of Reach.

"Are they joined?" the Prefect communicated to his lieutenant.

The under-officer's confidence brought an even wider smile to the Prefect's face. The bait was taken. Now his massed armada would rain death upon the foolish human defenders. The Covenant fleet's main armaments were the many heavy plasma turrets on his cruisers, and the strategically placed torpedo corvettes capable of downing an entire squadron in an instant. Never mind a fighter. Even a planet would crumble under their assault.

In they came, and Prefect Da' Gara waited eagerly.

* * *

Captain Sam Anglo kept his destroyer, the _Fire Shard_ back as the bulk of the fleet soared in, as did Ezra and the _Rejuvenator_. Given the beginning of the battle, the rout on the far side of the moon, it seemed as if the morons at Intel actually gave them an accurate estimation of enemy vessels. 

Then, what seemed to be the flagship of the combined frontier fleet sent to their aid hailed him.

"So I hear things are going quite well," Wallace called, as his fleet prepared to exit Slipspace.

"I heard," came the response, "We'll get you guys docked in with the rest of the fleet as soon as the _Rejuvenator_ and her escorts clear…" Sam's voice trailed off, as soon as Wallace glanced at the next radar signature of the mounting battle, he understood why.

Thousands of Seraphs had come out at the approaching fleet, zipping and zooming in and around the many fighters. What had been a rout and chase was suddenly a scene of absolute chaos, of battle joined- heavily.

"Chief," he called, "Get you and your Marines' asses onto some Pelicans. We got a job to do, a huge one."

The huge Spartan scurried off to do his commander's bidding. Taking the initiative, Commander Keyes declared a code red.

"Intel just came in," she reported to Wallace, "They got about three hundred and fifty ships. Combined with the defensive fleet, other frontier fleets and the Elites, we've got about six hundred. Still one hundred short of the two-to-one ratio we need to ensure a fair battle."

"We've got the Chief, Ezra and wonderboy. They three of them have gotta be worth more than a hundred ships," remarked Wallace, "Plus, they don't know we brought them some of their old buddies."

He let out a confident snigger, and was joined by the Praetor on the other end of the joint-communications channel.

"All right boys and girls, battle stations! Prepare to get those guns singing!"

* * *

Longsword Interceptor pilot sergeant Daryl Read bit his lip and throttled his fighter out to full, though the speed of the closing Seraphs mocked at his attempted run. He thought to turn about and plunge again into the protective cover of a huge asteroid a click away, but then realized that even that option had closed for him, for some of the Seraphs had fanned out to block his way. 

"They've got me," he muttered, and for the first time since joining the UNSC Space Corps, Daryl felt truly helpless, as if all the training to be worthy of a Longsword pilot could do nothing now to help him.

He closed his eyes and prepared to be engulfed in the flames of his fighter, but then, sensing something, he opened his eyes…and almost toppled with relief.

The _Reynolds_ came out of Slipspace right before him. Other ships- destroyers, carriers, gunships- appeared, and before Daryl could even open a channel and warn the approaching fleet, the great cruiser dropped into attack mode. Longswords and other fighters zoomed out of her bays; her great forward batteries opened up, streaks of light sizzling past him.

This had to be the frontier fleets summoned to the defense of the homeworld and… good lord, they had managed to win over allies from within the Covenant? Behind the human vessels emerged shining carriers from Slipspace, eager for battle, but somewhat reluctant to be seen by humans.

"Hey there pilot," came the voice of Kyp Durren, Longsword squadron commander, and Daryl, for all the resentment he held against the Spartan, had never imagined he would ever be this happy to hear the former's voice, "You need a little help?"

Seraphs flew in perfect formations with Longswords. Missiles shrieked towards their targets, exploding alongside plasma torpedoes.

He took survey of the battle. The enemy had been taken by surprise, it seemed. Most Covenant vessels in the immediate vicinity were going up in blazes of sparkling pieces. Others did manage to head for home, but then came yet another voice across all channels.

"This is Wallace," it said, "Let's take it right up to their home."

* * *

"Good morning kid, I see you made good of those dissatisfied Covenant eh?" came Ezra's cocky voice over the Comm channel. 

"Don't call me kid," came Wallace's dry response. He finished with a cry of triumph as the _Reynolds_ slammed a MAC slug right home into a Covenant destroyer, slicing it neatly into half. Behind, the Praetor's carrier, the _Scarling Bliss_, blasted another similarly designed Covenant carrier with pulse lasers, before several Seraphs and Longswords sailed in to finish the job.

Ahead and to the side of the _Reynolds_, which had now placed itself nearby the _Rejuvenator_, a pair or Elite gunships opened up, dozens of batteries on each sending lines of plasma fire out in all myriad of directions, forcing all nearby Covenant craft into wild and desperate, often unsuccessful, evasive maneuvers.

"Impressive," remarked Ezra, as the Praetor entered the joint-ops channel.

"The newest and best," the Praetor started to reply, but stopped short and flinched when one of the gunships off to the side of the _Scarling Bliss_ went up in a huge explosion.

And then a small corvette rushed in at the nearest human destroyer. They heard the banter between the Elite captain and the human commander, one saying that he had the corvette, all guns trained forward, and calling for the other to cover his attack.

And so the destroyer let loose a tremendous barrage of rockets that streaked at the corvette…

And disappeared in a symphony of flame and light.

"Plasma disruptor," Ezra muttered breathlessly, "Just took one hit…"

And now they heard calls from Kyp and the combined-fleet pilots, waging a blistering, weaving battle against a swarm of enemy ships, and those calls were not of victory, but of surprise.

"They're more that we though," Wallace remarked, watching and listening to the distant spectacle of that battle, for Longswords - top-of-the-line fighters - were barely holding their own.

"Give us support, _Aegis_!" came Kyp's plea.

The _Aegis_ was the second-best ship in the fleet, sent forth to serve as a mobile firing platform to cover the fighters. But the _Aegis_ had her hands full, Seraphs and small corvettes buzzing her from all angles, and somehow avoiding her devastating cannon arrays.

"Going in for the broke," Rojo, the _Aegis_' commander, sent his call throughout all channels, and the great leviathan opened up an even more spectacular display of firepower. But the Seraphs were good, amazingly so, pacing the larger ship's movements and keeping their attacks so wonderfully coordinated.

Commander Rojo soon came to realize that he was in trouble. The onslaught of the Seraphs and the larger fighter-support craft was nothing short of brutal, and nothing less than brilliant, and those fighter squadrons sent out to run guard for the _Aegis_ had all they could handle running guard for themselves.

Damage reports chimed in from all around him, relating mounting problems on the _Aegis_ and relating the growing losses throughout the fleet. And then came the general alarms as a distant heat signature had been detected a score away. All those alarms that were not local to the bridge were washed out in a flood of static.

Commander Rojo knew he was running out of time.

_Damn plasma disruptor._

"Commander! They're launching their fucking beam!" yelled one of the bridge crew.

"Evade! Hard to port!" Rojo screamed desperately.

"That wouldn't be necessary sir," came a voice from the back of the bridge. It was the navigator.

"Huh?" choked Rojo. He glanced at the viewscreen, only to see the great beam of whitish-blue energy streak harmlessly past the _Aegis_…

And impact itself on a nearby Covenant carrier.

* * *

Back on the _Rejuvenator_, multiple heat signatures appeared on the radar. It was a great fleet, more than two hundred strong. 

"Covenant reinforcements?" queried Barrin.

"Possible," replied Ezra.

He observed as his fighters flew in a desperate assault against the sleeker-looking newcomers. As expected, the capital ships opened up gun ports and unleashed swarms of fighters. Hundreds of them.

But instead of engaging the Longswords and Elite Seraphs, these fighters swooped past them, ignoring them totally, but slammed sparkling beams of energy into whatever Covenant ships that got in their way.

"Are they friend or foe?" gasped Fayt, having struggled to repel a boarding action onto the _Rejuvenator_, the party now returning to the bridge for a breather.

"Friend or foe? Goddamn, what's the world coming to? Even wonderboy doesn't recognize me anymore!" came a voice over the joint-ops channel. A very familiar voice. Whoever he was, he managed to hack right in.

"Could it be?" said Nel.

"Don't tell me…" muttered Adray.

Sensing the newcomer was friendly, the communications officer unblocked his signal, and the full face of Albel the Wicked, with his usual smirk grim plastered across his face, emerged onto the viewscreen.

"Damn, why don't people stay dead," murmured Fayt.

* * *

Back on his personal ship, the _Black Drake_, Albel marveled at the power of the Lesiri armada. The armada he was at the head of. They sheared through mighty Covenant vessels like they were nothing more than pieces of cardboard. What seemed to be a loosing battle to the defenders was not a total rout in their favor. So it was a good idea to bring these guys along. 

There were things yet to be done, of course. Ezra explained that Covenant dropships had landed on Earth, Africa to be exact, and they were rapidly advancing towards major cities. But the battle up here was almost theirs. Lesiri captains were reporting completed objectives, successful kills, and other brainless chatter.

He took sometime to bask in the glory that he was the one who orchestrated this, then set back to his job. He was receiving numerous complaints that humans and Elites were firing at his troops and set another verbal reminder to Ezra and his troops on the diplomacy of the battle.

"Agnate!" he called out into the communications channel.

"Yes sir!" a low but sharp voice replied.

"Get the troop carriers ready. We're landing on Earth," he ordered.

"Where shall we make battle?" came the response.

"A desert, they call it the Sahara. Nice flat ground, perfect for deploying troops," he elaborated.

"Aye sir, we shall set a rendezvous point for all troop carriers and shuttles," acknowledged Agnate with a crisp salute.

* * *

Imperator Thaddeus, supreme commander of the Lesiri fleet surveyed the battle. The First Deathdealer was right. The humans, as cornered and in such a hopeless situation as they were, never stopped fighting. Truly, they had the spirits of warriors in their small slender frame. 

Leaning back on his throne-like command chair, he watched as the flagship, the first Deathdealer's own corvette, the _Black Drake_, dove dangerously close to a Covenant carrier, and virtually tore it apart with a ferocious bombardment of anti-matter beams. Cerberus made a good choice with his successor. Despite not being Lesiri, to Albel, the title "First Deathdealer" fit him like a glove.

He recalled that Albel himself had disrupted his affirmation ceremony, the most glorious day for any Lesiri, just to save his comrades on Earth. Moved by his sacrificial act, the entire Lesiri armada followed him back to Earth.

Now the entire Lesiri fleet emerged from Slipspace with weapons blazing. Simultaneously, from the steamy hangers of the carriers, _Nidhog_ fighter squadrons raced forwards to engage the invaders, the radiance of their ion drives adding a renewed glow to the shimmering battlefield.

Batteries of one of the many Lesiri forward cruisers and their frigate escorts ranged toward distant targets and fired. Anti-matter beams slashed outward, visible in vacuum as wrathful hyphens of energy. Overlapping spheres of brilliance flared out in the darkness, blossoming thicker than a meadow of wildflowers.

The Covenant vessels- heavily shielded- withstood the initial barrage. Defensive maneuvers were taken and plasma turrets guzzled countless ergs of energy. Answering bursts from fearsomely powerful arrays streaked towards the Lesiri task force as spiraling golden projectiles, grotesquely beautiful against the starfield.

Diverting energy to their shields, the Lesiri ships held their own, then returned fire. Laser light and nova-bright missiles griddled the blackened space as the two flotillas continued to trade volleys.

_Nidhog_s, Longswords and Seraphs swooped in from all angles and began to distract, harass and sting the vanguard Covenant vessels with barrages of ordnance. Dazed by the appearance of the humongous Lesiri armada, and their powerful volley, a Covenant frigate dropped its guard momentarily. Slipping through vulnerable spots in the ship's defenses, torpedoes from a combined wing of _Nidhog_s and Seraphs detonated against the ship's hull. Chunks of steel as large as fighters separated from the vessel, and blazed fiery trails in all directions.

Centerpiece of the battle, Albel's _Black Drake_ swooped in close to a carrier and sent a volley of rockets, which knocked out its main turrets. He then gave the signal and three shuttles exited the hanger bays, carrying hordes of bloodthirsty Lesiri marines.

* * *

Sergeant Johnson thought he'd seen it all. Genetically modified humans? Check. Alien invasion? Check. Weird kid who seems to be superman's son? Check. Humans teaming up with aliens? Check. But what was unfolding before his eyes was nothing short of a Hollywood movie set. 

Here he was clutching his rifle and blasting away at Covenant boarders storming out of an airlock form their Phantom, when their numbers started thinning drastically. Puzzled, he popped his head out from the crate he was cowering behind, and nearly died of surprise when he saw that a bipedal dog-like alien force was killing- or rather massacring- the Brutes.

He was about to start firing at them again, when a firm hand on his caused him to lower it. The Master Chief shook his head and said, "Relax marine, they're friendly."

At that moment, all channels blared Ezra's voice, calling on all personnel not to engage these aliens.

_Friendly?! I guess and enemy of my enemy is my friend. I can live with that. But how the heck did they get into…_

His thought process was cut short as the Master Chief, as though reading his mind, pointed at the Phantom beyond the airlock. It seemed that these, Lesiri, as the Chief called them, had boarded the Phantom from their own shuttle.

_Great…Boarding ship getting boarded? Check_.

* * *

To Ezra, it didn't matter what these newcomers were, or who was their leader. They were good, he had to admit. He marveled as two of these Lesiri cruisers fired their main bow guns and sent a Covenant cruiser, fully shielded, spinning into oblivion. 

It seemed that one of wonderboy's friends, whom they all left for dead, had been rescued by these aliens, and now was regarded as their god. But he didn't care. As long as these newcomers gave him a fighting chance, he'd take it. Their Imperator had already been connected to the joint-ops channel, and just from viewing an image of the alien commander, he knew that whoever this Thaddeus was, he was full of mettle.

Fayt, on the other hand, had no such luxury as to having a chitchat with the Lesiri commander. He had his hands full fighting off boarders. This incursion was larger than most, with four Phantoms dropping off troops simultaneously. He needed reinforcements badly.

Then, some charges on the far end of the hanger went of and Lesiri marines flooded in, overpowering the Covenant boarders with almost casual ease.

The first dozen to disembark were clearly warriors, wearing something that Fayt guessed was combat armor but which resembled him own armor the same way a classic painting resembled a crude sketch. The Lesiri were towering figures, easily seven feet tall, and in their armor resembled deadly insects, their bodies protected by shiny, segmented shells whose pieces overlapped perfectly but slid easily, allowing both protection and flexibility. Portions of the armor swept up from the chest, high over the flared shoulder-pieces and down to the back, resembling stylized wings. A gleaming light was embedded in the center of their chest, just below the arc, and Fayt couldn't tell if the light was functional, decorative, or both. They wore no helmets over their huge gaping maws and pointed wolf-like ears, their armor ending in a high collar that protected the neck and back instead. Their long, peeked heads peered out from the welter of protective metal, glowing orbs for eyes staring out from behind a long snout. Fayt saw several firing rifles, but most attacked with energy wrist blades, extending out from thick bracers, which covered each warrior's forearms.

He watched with awe as these warriors glided through the battalion of Brutes and Jackals like a band of trained swordsmen moving through a raging mob. It was an amazing display, be he was sure he missed much of it because the Lesiri moved simply too fast for him. A Lesiri swordsman would pivot forward, dancing as much as attacking; his arm would lash out, blade crackling with energy. The blade would draw blood from any Brute slow or foolish enough not to get out of the way. The swordsman would then pause for a moment to pick his next target and the process would repeat.

At once he felt like a child again, clinging onto his mother's skirt, whilst these aliens from beyond the stars stood like giants before him.

_God they're good…_

* * *

Back outside in the battle still raging, a Lesiri cruiser avenged a human destroyer by sending anti-matter beams that sliced through the assailant Covenant frigate. Nearby, two Elite gunships moved into position at the flanks of a Lesiri destroyer, determined to make roast out of a Covenant cruiser. Pounding discharges from the batteries of all three ships vaporized dozens of Seraphs and escort craft at a burst. Desperate ploys saved some of the Covenant fighters, but most were out-smarted, disintegrated, or transformed into short-lived comets. 

Elsewhere, junking through whirling hunks of debris, a squadron of Longswords and _Nidhog_s converged on a maimed Covenant corvette and began to nip at it mercilessly. Missiles punched through the imperiled defenses and slammed into the bow. Stratified layers began to peel away from the ship, rubble exploding outward, rocketed from sight. A second, smaller craft, similarly lanced by a wing of Seraphs, also blew to pieces, showering nearby space with briefly glowing motes.

Close to the _Black Drake_, a chaotic melee raged as Seraphs, Longswords and _Nidhog_s mixed it up, ferociously and with grim resolve. The fighters came out of smooth rolls, inverted dives, and predatory banks to go to guns with their prey, riding them until they were annihilated. Other craft revectored, racing through fragment clouds and carnage or form up for reengagement, sometimes slewing wildly out of control.

Not that Albel could care anyways. He got word Fayt and the party had head down to Africa to help in the ongoing campaign against the Covenant ground troops, which had landed. He had to get down there. He didn't trust the kid, or anyone else for that matter, to protect his Nel for him. Just then Agnate reported in, "Sir, all Roc heavy troop carriers are ready for deployment. Regrettably we lack the geographical knowledge set up an adequate rendezvous location. Perhaps-"

Agnate was cut off by his commander, "Tell them to look for a burning Covenant ship."

Slightly stunned, Agnate stood for a while with his jaw opened, then years or military experience kicked in and he gave a salute, before barking orders to the Roc pilots.

The bridge crew had overheard his conversation with Agnate and one of Albel's lieutenants, Trandoshan, questioned, "Your Eminence, where are we going to get the Covenant ship for the beacon?"

Albel's calm look widened into a sadistic grin, "There." He pointed at a nearby carrier.

Trandoshan's curious look turned into one of pleasure. Taking the initiative, he reached for the radio and gave a public announcement, "All Deathdealers are to form up at the hangers. We're going on a little excursion."

* * *

The Brute captain and his squad patrolling the corridors of the targeted carrier had no idea what hit them. They were alerted of the approach of the Lesiri boarding craft and had formed up exactly where the shuttle had placed its airlock. But when the charges went off, the boarding shuttle was totally empty. 

"What in the likes of-" the sight of his front rank getting brutally dismembered, by _nothing_, cut off the captain's curse. It was absurd; perfectly health warriors do not get sliced to pieces just like that, perhaps-

He didn't need to know the answer. Just seconds after the airlock was opened, the captain and his squad lay decapitated on the corridor. Out of the shadows phased a group of Deathdealers, similarly armed as their counterparts with two wrist blades, but they wore jet-black armors, which blended perfectly with their dark hides. Over their salivating jaws they wore black silk masks.

The communicator of one of the Deathdealers beeped, and he conversed in hushed voices with the Deathdealer on the other end of the line.

"For the Deathdealers' guild!" he cheered as he beckoned for his comrades to advance further into the ship, the others nodded in agreement, before fading back into the shadows in a synchronized fashion.

* * *

Albel stood over the dead bodies of the Covenant carrier's bridge crew. His father had been right. Men fear darkness for what hides inside. Apparently so did Brutes and Jackals. He stepped aside to allow Trandoshan access to the ship's motherboard. After flicking a few switches and pressing a few buttons, the lieutenant nodded his head, and stepped back. 

Albel reached for his radio and hailed Agnate, "We've gotten control of the ship. We're going in. Watch for it and rally to me." Agnate responded with a grunt.

_Wait for me, Nel. Wicked Boy's coming._

* * *

A/N: Ok, next chapter will be the land battle. Actually, the Lesiri were based off the Protoss from Starcraft, in case you thought the designs were similar to the Zealot and Dark Templar armor, and the name _Black Drake_ was inspired from the_ Black Pearl_; nigh uncatchable, nigh indestructible.

Master out.


	11. Homecoming II

Disclaimer: Refer to previous chapters. Thanks.

A/N 1: This is the second part of chapter 10 and focuses on one big titanic battle in the Sahara desert. Like its other half, it'll focus more on warfare than on heroes, so Fayt and Co are more or less out of this one.

A/N 2: You'll see many new original weapons in this chapter, especially melee weapons. Halo by itself focuses on urban warfare with guns. Bring those into old-fashioned army-to-army combat and you're asking for trouble. Besides, it'd be refreshing wouldn't it?

* * *

Chapter 10: Homecoming II

Within his tent, the Arbiter stared bleakly at the tactical maps of the Sahara. They lay in a sloppy stack across his field table. Once, they had been neatly stored, each in its own tube. Once, he had strolled his compass easily across lines of topography. Now, the maps bore fretful, fruitless scribbles of a commander in hopeless engagement. As he struggled to think, the scenes from the last battle visualized before him.

He could see long lines of Grunts, standing in ranks six deep, plasma pikes and shields ready for the oncoming Brute infantry. On the enemy came. The Covenant regiment closed to within a hundred yards, and then suddenly changed formation. From the rear, Jackal shield-bearers replaced the front most rank of Brute Berserkers, and the line shifted from a square with the flat facing them, to a diamond with the point threatening them. The point advanced.

The Arbiter did not know what to do. He knew the pointed formation of massed plasma pikes had far greater reach than his own, and it would split his line into two like a plasma sword through zoochberry jam. He watched in horror has his prediction came true. Human gunfire was repeatedly deflected by the shields and their legendary artillery bombardments could not be used for fear of hitting their own allies.

The Arbiter tried to plug the line with his own honor guard of fifty Elites, but they could not hold for long. Their fight, however, gave the rest of the line enough time to retreat however.

The Arbiter was trapped. His forces had been winnowed horribly by the last, disastrous assault. Fifty thousand warriors, Grunt, Hunter, Elite and Human, marched into battle behind him. Twenty thousand had fled. They had made camp here, twenty miles away from the Covenant encampment- out of reach from those monsters. Members of several localized human defense grounds slowly joined them. The field was lost. The alliance was in full rout.

He placed positioned paper troops in various arrangements throughout the broad map. Even with a four-to-one kill ratio, no Elite would possess the field. It would be suicide to attack now and swifter and surer suicide with each passing hour.

Over and over he replayed the moment in his mind. Should he have pulled back? Should he have enveloped? He ran the battle through his mind.

A sound intruded on the Arbiter's bleak reverie. He had blocked out camp sounds- crackling fires, conversation, groans of pain- and so the slow-mounting roar put him on alert. Lurching up from his stool, he caught his head in the peak of the man-sized tent. With a growl, he ducked and emerged. The flaps slapped angrily together beside him.

Mounting thunder filled the dusty sky. It was unmistakable- the approach of shuttles and airships. The Covenant had defeated the troops in space and were now bringing the remaining troops left up there to destroy them.

In the distance, the burning hull of a great Covenant carrier stuck from the dull landscape like a great skyscraper, with shuttles and other escort craft swarming around behind it.

The Arbiter shook his head grimly. _I couldn't make a damned decision myself, and now they have decided for me._

All around, his troops stood stunned, staring upwards. Their commander's indecision had infected even them.

"To arms! To arms!" the Arbiter bellowed. "Train the guns! Wake! Hark! It's time to die!"

Soldiers snatched up their swords and pikes. They loaded and cocked rifles and carbines. The scrambled to rip covers off artillery pieces. Blocks of powder and artillery rounds slid down the barrels of bombards. Plasma charges mounted within ray cannons started to glow in intense light. Shouts of fear filled the air. It was a sound that heartened the Arbiter after days of silent fear and indecision.

"You might not want to fire on these," came a voice abruptly from behind. "These are your reinforcements."

The Arbiter whirled, plasma sword raking out, and found himself staring at the grim visage of the Praetor. The Elite's face was battle weary. His face was dishelmed and singed. From the Phantom behind him exited the Master Chief, the boy Leingod, and a host of ranking Human and Elite officers.

"My Lord," the Arbiter said breathlessly, stumbling to one knee.

"Call off your gunners!" the Praetor replied with quiet urgency.

"Gunners, stand down!" the Arbiter commanded, straightening up. His call went down the lines. To the Praetor, he said, "Reinforcements?"

"Allies from beyond the stars. Dire enemies of the Covenant. Friends of the human Nox," the Praetor said simply.

"We will see what they are worth," said the Arbiter.

"They are worth more than it appears my friend. Now rally the troops. We strike together."

**

* * *

**

**A/N: At the Lesiri rendezvous point **

Albel strode at the head of his army, Trandoshan, his ranking officer, at his side. He wore the armor and livery of his Glyphian Black Brigade, rejecting the more advanced Lesiri combat armor, worn by the tens of thousands of Lesiri legionnaires that were assembling before him. Their belief armed him, for it was belief that had made him the commander of the Black Brigade, belief made him ally with Fayt and the party, belief had helped him survive against the Flood on the Delta Halo. And now, belief gave him command over an entire army.

Lifting the Gunblade aloft for all to see, he instantly got the attention of the crowd. Then, pointing the barrel of the Gunblade to the other side of the desert, where the Arbiter and Praetor had already started doing battle with the Covenant ground infantry; he gave a shout, "Look at that!"

Pausing for a moment to allow his words to sink in, he continued, "Our allies are already wading in the blood of our enemies!"

He surveyed the troops. All the troops gathered before him had murder and bloodlust in their eyes, "Are we going let them have all the glory?"

A loud cheer started from the centre of the assemble troops, quickly spreading outwards. "Are we going to let them rob us of our honor as warriors?"

The cheer grew louder.

"Are we going to leave this slaughter unanswered?"

The cheer was deafening.

Albel smiled. He was no ship captain despite his father being a pirate captain and then a fleet admiral. Up in space he was glad to let Thaddeus do all the word. But down here, he was back in his own comfort zone. Manipulating the mood of the gathering like a master, his few words prepared them better than several years of training.

"Then charge!"

Without looking back, Albel spun around and dashed towards the Covenant formation a score away. He heard a war cry, and his pounding footsteps were joined by others. Tens of thousands of others.

* * *

Lifting high his plasma pike, the Arbiter shouted, "Charge!" 

His troops took up the shout. It became a fierce war cry, mortals storming the gates of hell.

But those gates were well guarded. The desert before the Arbiter swarmed with Covenant troops. For a mile in every direction, monsters ranked. In deep trenches lay Jackals waiting to ambush anyone who wandered too close. In cannonades and bombard embrasures, Covenant gunners tested aim and range. In lookout towers, rapid-fire plasma cannons and fuel-rod cannons were loaded. Behind ramparts, artillerymen prepared tanks and cannons. They waited eagerly.

Not all waited. Other beasts marched forth. In side-by-side phalanxes, they advanced, their claws and hooves flung up shimmering clouds of salt-dust in their wake. The vanguard bristled with Jackal shield-bearers, their shields gleaming under the merciless sun. Next came the Berserkers, their hulking bulks churning up the ground. Brute shock troops filled up the main body of the army, the most vicious fighters of them all, armed with plasma scimitars and carbine alike. They advanced, not marching, but charging.

The Arbiter leveled his plasma pike. His jaw clenched. His eyes gleamed like twin poniards.

The Praetor flared his plasma sword into life.

A whine rose behind the Arbiter's division. The noise suddenly intensified to a shriek. The air directly overhead thronged with gleaming forms- Banshees. They cut the sky to ribbons. Readying plasma cannons, they dove towards Covenant lines. A manifold crackle followed as the plasma bolts found their mark and punched easily through the Jackals' shields. From the hole they made in the shields emerged burning flesh and macerated meat.

The Covenant lines crashed down. Over their scaly backs, Berserkers galloped eagerly. They bore no shields except the adamite armor on their chests and shoulders. They bore no weapons save the scimitar claws that sprouted from their fingers. Their fangy throats were filled with roars as they smashed against the Arbiter and his army.

Plasma pikes rammed into Berserker bellies. The weapons clawed their way up the shaft that impaled them. Pikes chewed through spines. Their hind legs went limp, still, they clawed forward. They sank scimitar claws into Human faces and Grunt necks.

The Arbiter himself was nearly torn to pieces. He released his pike- mired in a Berserker's midsection- and ducked under a pair of swiping claws. With a roundhouse kick, he flung the claws back to stab their owner. The Berserker impaled its own eye and tore its neck wide, glistening ichors sprayed in a golden cloud.

Blanketed in the monster's gore, the Arbiter ignited his sword from its handle. With one chop to the neck, the Berserker fell before him. His plasma pike clawed its way out of the monster's back. The Arbiter clambered past the beast to retrieve it.

Then another Berserker reared before him, this one bigger than the first. It grabbed the Arbiter with both hands and bear-hugged him, lifting him from the ground. Biting back the agony, the Elite warrior hurled his plasma pike at the thing's back, but it cracked off the adamite armor and rattled uselessly down amongst muscles legs.

The hug tightened and the Arbiter felt his hip pop. He hacked at the Berserker's joints. The sword tip got embedded between some shoulder plates. Yanking sideways on it, the Arbiter levered the Berserker's hand slightly. He could not escape, but burdened by pain, the Berserker could no longer crush him.

A Jackal foot soldier climbed the Berserker's back to hew the Arbiter's head off his shoulders with a short plasma sword.

Sudden fire blazed from the sky. The Jackal was gone, dismantled by a sudden energy blast. The adamite armor of the Berserker was also being eaten away, its guts being revealed from under that protective shell.

He turned back to see the Master Chief blasting another group of Jackals with a salvaged fuel-rod cannon. The huge Spartan paused to give the Arbiter an encouraging nod, before proceeding to melt a Brute.

From behind came another welcome sight, the roaring hulls of human Longsword fighters pelting the Covenant formations with hailstorms of missiles. The nimble fighters easily evaded poorly-placed anti-aircraft munitions whilst their continuous onslaught ploughed furrows through the ranks of monsters. Following the fighters were other human craft he had only read about. The whirring blades of helicopters drowned out the noise of the battle. Some shot missiles of their own, whilst others peppered quarreled bolts down atop monstrous heads.

Clambering out of the charred body of his captor, the Arbiter lifted his sword high and let out a battle cry.

In Human and Elite throats, the shout echoes across the bloody field.

* * *

The Covenant ground troops assigned to face the oncoming Lesiri horde had taken up their usual formations with Jackal shield in front and Brute warriors at the back. They were not specialists in such close combat, but they made the most of it, and this formation, used for boarding ships, was the most effective. 

The Lesiri on the other had had adopted a rather strange formation. They were charging like any other army, but their commander was several yards ahead of them. There were some traditions amongst Elites were the commander always had the right to draw the first pint of blood, but a commander outpacing his army by this much was utterly ridiculous.

The Covenant's troops had their queries answered as soon as Albel was just a few meters away. Materializing from the shadows, his entire honor-guard of black-clad Deathdealers lunged forth and pounced onto the Jackals. Using their superior height and weight as an advantage, the Deathdealers kicked aside the shield-bearers and rushed into the softer ranks of the Covenant formation.

Blades made out of pure energy easily sliced through plasma-enhanced shields and thick armor. The Covenant troops were put out of their element. They depended on the shield-bearers to protect them from oncoming munitions, and had perfected this technique against the humans' projectile weapons, but having an alien race here charging at them and decimating their shield-line like a shotgun through beef steaks had them caught totally off-foot.

Over a hundred had fallen before the rest of the line had time to react. In urban warfare, the Covenant and Lesiri might have been equals, but in such close quarters, the Lesiri were definitely the superior.

Four Lesiri legionnaires easily strafed a Wraith tank, evading its deadly plasma bolts. Two then disabled it by slicing at its repulsorlift units with the other two wrenched open the hatch and descended into the belly of the beast. The two warriors then emerged and scurried for cover as charges left behind reduced the tank to hunks of scrap metal.

Elsewhere, Lesiri Triage tanks, lifted off the ground by four spider-like limbs, traded blows with Wraiths on a distant sand dune. The anti-matter ordnance fired by the Triages created sparkling blue lines in the sky across the path which they took, a beautiful, yet deadly, display of sheer power.

_Nidhogs_ soared past overhead. They bled fire down onto the Covenant warriors. Cannons glowing, destruction bloomed from all sides of their fuselage, prow, amidships, stern and keel. Fire raked over a Covenant contingent. The flesh beneath the armor flashed away in gray smoke. Armor and bones stoop upright a moment longer as bodies fled in sooty ghosts on the wind. Hundreds of Covenant fell, their superheated bodies crumbling to a fine white powder.

The squadron banked up steeply and ran another strafing run, all in perfect formation. They unleashed a second firestorm, cratering the battlefield. Anti matter beams lashed out to wrap whole platoons in searing blankets. Rockets pelted the menagerie. Flesh was scoured from bodies. Other blasts laved acres of sand in flame. Covenant troopers marched as far through the holocaust as they could. At last, their cores reached the combustion threshold. They exploded, one blaze igniting a second, igniting a third. Where once had been a whole regiment, now lay a highway of soot.

Albel charged onto that highway. He clutched his Gunblade in both hands. The sleek blade fell with angry vengeance. It clove into the mouth of a Brute footman. The blade bit into the throat, splitting jaw and pallet. The beast fought on. Its claws rammed beneath Albel's breastplate, punching holes in his side. Fingers clenched. Organs severed and bled.

Letting go of his Gunblade, Albel gripped the impaling claws with one hand and the Brute's elbow with another. Twisting quickly, he rammed the elbow, breaking the joint. It popped loudly, and bone and gristle separated. One more yank, and the arm came off, streaming blood.

Undeterred, the Brute lunged with its good arm.

Albel drew the dead arm from his side and thrust its gory claws up before him. The Brute grabbed its severed arm, giving Albel the chance to yank his Gunblade free. He swung it in a broad circle and lopped the thing's head off. The body jigged a moment more, uncertain it was dead, before flopping onto the ground.

Albel trod over it, lifting high the Gunblade. It streamed the life of the Covenant, anointing him and his troops with oil.

* * *

Covenant Banshees plunged in a thick cascade ahead. 

Kyp Durren banked his Longsword sharply into the smoking air. His fleet- Banshees, Longswords, Seraphs and _Nidhogs_- followed.

Plasma cannonades hurled blanketing fire toward them. It seemed crimson silk unfolding on the wind. In moments it would slay them all. Kyp led his fleet in a steep dive towards a Covenant division below. The cannonades ceased their fire. Even the Covenant would not destroy their own troops. Kyp did it for them anyway.

Spitting lead and missiles onto the Covenant vanguard, he took a while to admire the many twitching bodies on the ground, still unaware for their demise, before taking up positions for a second run.

The combined fleet shot out over the main body of the Covenant army. Missiles baked Brutes in their armor. Grade-A titanium rounds cracked skulls. Shockwaves hurled monsters like leaves.

There were bombers too. Fleets of heavy human bombers freshly flown in from distant areas like Australia and Brazil spread destruction and carnage in their wake. Fiery hunks of napalm whistled as they fell. They stuck onto armor and flesh alike and burned their way through.

Jackals shuddered, struggling to throw off the burning things. Brutes thrashed as the burning liquid sank between their ribs. Berserkers slumped dead and smoldering on still-charging legs. Wherever napalm and air and flesh met, beasts exploded.

This was no Reach. The Coalition was winning this time. Kyp could feel it. The Lesiri armada and the frontier fleets were dominating orbit. The pilots of the combined squadrons were ruling the heavens. The Coalition's infantry were ruling the ground. Heroes were leading their men, cutting bloody swathes through the already-thinning enemy ranks. All the while, the Coalition closed the circle around the remaining Covenant fighters.

With a hiss of steam, Kyp flared his afterburners and vaulted skyward. His fleet coiled like a deadly veil behind him. As plasma mounted up from cannons, Kyp and his pilots plunged in another strafing run.

Fire belched down. Covenant warriors rose in ash.

This was no Reach.

* * *

Albel and his forces fought forward down a path of soot. Kyp's fleet had paved the way. Burning beasts in fields of glass led to the Tibesti Mountains. Lesiri marched with grim fury. They owned this highway, and cleared Covenant warriors like weeds. Albel's Gunblade grew dull- it had split so many skulls, so much armor. Still, it was a deadly club, and Albel's rage made it a lightning bolt. 

The Gunblade smashed a Brute's skull. The helmet of that sorry beast caved inwards. The monster staggered before collapsing to the sand with a dull thud. Albel kicked its belly, and then strode over it in a confident sign of victory.

Another hailstorm of plasma bolts from distant mortars began. The menacing projectiles cracked against helms and shoulder pieces. They fell in treacherous fields before the Lesiri, who ran in irregular zig-zag patterns to throw off the Covenant gunners. Any who were too slow increased the already-towering pile of bodies.

"Forward!" Albel shouted above the carnage and explosions.

They had almost reached the foot of the mountain range. The place was already a charnel house. Whoever had beaten them to it had been brutal. They slaughtered hundreds. The black blood of Brutes mingled with the crimson of Jackals, forming a shallow marsh. Bodies lay like flagstones in a vast floor. Even now, a platoon of humans guarded the entrance to the mountain range. They cheered Albel and his troops as they broke through.

The Arbiter, the Praetor, the Master Chief, and what remained of the coalition of Humans, Grunts, Elites and Jackals approached form the opposite highway of death. The pincers grew inexorably together. The Covenant caught between those two claws would be sliced to death. Those outside, even now, were being mercilessly hammered by aircraft.

After so much killing, after such impossible legions of fiends, it seemed strange so suddenly to rush up beside his own allies. Arms that spent hours wielding swords and rifles now opened in glad greeting. The long parted halves of the coalition's army were not reunited before the gates of hell.

Albel did not allow himself the luxury of joy. Neither, he noted, did the Arbiter. The two commanders approached astride, approaching the head of the human contingent at the entrance to the mountain range. At last Albel was able to identify them. They bore the insignia of Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, and must have been deployed to capture strategic points at around the same time he had landed. After all, he had met some of these squads along the way and they had more than willingly joined him in his charge.

The ODSTs were ragged, bloody and battle-fatigued. Nonetheless, grim smiles filled their faces.

"Welcome to the Tibesti mountains commanders," the shaggy ODST leader said, "The rest of our brigade had infiltrated the mountain range and confirmed the main Covenant stronghold lies within. We have so far been successful in scouting out the main Covenant bunkers and positions, but be weary- the mountains are treacherous and ambushed will be abundant. I now gratefully relinquish command to you."

"Thank you," Albel said with a level nod. Turning to the Arbiter, he said, "And I relinquish my command to you. Lead this army in. We need every sword we can muster."

The Elite commander stared amazingly at Albel, "I was just about to offer my command to you."

Albel shook his head, "I have more pressing business, lead these troops. I will return when I am finished."

With no further word, Albel marched past the soldiers back towards the desert, accompanied by only two of his elite Deathdealers. He was looking for the one person who he returned to Earth for.

"Uh…Orders sir?" Trandoshan hesitantly asked the Arbiter. He had no problems with taking orders from another species, but the abrupt change in leadership stunned even this battle-hardened veteran.

The Arbiter had seen plenty of this before. Trandoshan was a good soldier and a competent leader, but going up against uncertainties was always tough. Give a soldier a weapon and a target and he was good to go. But tell him something vague like "Prove your worth" or "Defend this land" and he'd run into trouble. Soldiers needed specifics, who, what, where and when. Unfortunately the Arbiter didn't have that to offer. He'd have to think on his feet and work with loose definitions and create his own specifics. He could do that.

"Divide you men into squads of no more than twenty. Group these squads into groups of three. Get each squad in each group to look out for each other. Ambushes will be rife and we can only help each other by watching each other's backs. Travel light, ditch all heavy equipment. Armor and artillery are to form mop-up squads to kill all Covenant still prowling the desert. We attack in an hour."

Trandoshan gave a quick salute, glad that the commander already had formulated a plan, and it sounded concrete and sound.

* * *

Meanwhile, Albel had also found what he was looking for. He'd passed that area several times, but only this time was he able to catch a hint of that angelic voice. Whirring around, he dashed towards a makeshift hospital. 

It seemed the Covenant knew no compassion. The entire field hospital was littered with craters and plasma burns. The canvas roof even had a giant burn through it, allowing the sun to enter. Inside, it was a buzz of activity, with human medics and Elite healers scurrying to and fro, frantically calling for more medicine or extra manpower.

It was a victory no doubt, but at a terrible cost.

In the middle of it all, there she was. Nel, an expert at not only offensive symbology, but also healing symbology, was assigned to the most critically injured. Her magic did in several seconds what regular treatment did in days, but it was limited – very limited. As such she tried to use it sparingly, but with such a huge war, even sparingly became an overwhelming flood.

Observing her from behind, Albel watched as she chanted an incantation, and then touched a bleeding wound on a Grunt, healing it immediately. However, her magic reserves were running short. The runes on her thighs and arms, which normally glowed brightly, were now shimmering weakly.

Her task completed, Nel spun around, only to ram head-first into Albel's breastplate. She starred at him, stunned for several seconds, before collecting herself and relaxing.

"I see you brought some friends," she started, breaking the silence.

"Who, them?" he gestured at his bodyguards, "Yeah, I guess you could call em' that. You've been here all along?"

"Yeah, the place got hit by a mortar," she pointed at the gaping hole in the roof, "Wiped out several medics, placed dozens more in the sickbeds they once attended to. I decided that saving lives was more important than taking them, so I wound up here."

"We're about to go give the Covenant in the mountains a holler. Care to join us?" he smirked.

"In fact, yes. I'm more or less done here. They can handle the rest," replied Nel, as she reached for her Blades of Ryusen.

"What are we waiting for?"

**

* * *

**

**A/N: An hour later **

This felt good- killing them like this. Leaving them in pieces behind. Somehow, when the monsters were chopped up and sloppy on the cave floor, the seemed cleaner than when they breathed and scuttled and walked. That's how he thought of it – cleansing the planet.

Weapons primed, The Arbiter and his contingent rounded a corner. Two monsters launched themselves from the darkness beyond. No longer did they fight in phalanxes. They fought like trapped dogs. The Arbiter dropped his carbine, gripping his sword in two hands; he rammed it into the rushing chest of one. Plasma seared through obscene ribs, sinking deep and rupturing the heart. Blood boiled around the edges of the blade.

Even in dying, the thing fought on. Its knobby arms clamped down on the Elite, its claws piercing him.

Roaring, the Arbiter pried his sword sideways. The blade snapped ribs and tore clear. The beast slumped, leaning drunkenly on him before it tumbled sideways. The Arbiter batted its arms away.

The fight was finished. Three Grunts had slain the other beast, a Berserker, at the cost of their own lives. Their corpses sprawled on one side of the valley. The Arbiter stared hard at the two dead Berserkers. Their flesh was rotten, grey and shabby. Gritting his teeth, he hacked down with his sword. It clove the face of one dead monster. The blade rose. It fell again. He cut the thing's skull into half. The sword slashed down again. It opened the beast's face along the jaw. The Arbiter lifted his sword for another strike.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder- the Praetor's hand. "Save your hate. We've plenty more ahead."

Woken from his blood rage, the Arbiter nodded. "Let's go. The main command post cannot be far now."

He scaled a rock formation to survey the landscape and plot a new course. He glanced at a neighboring valley. Lesiri columns advanced, under the protective fire of human machineguns. Covenant bodies littered the floor, with the occasional Human, Grunt, Hunter, Elite, or Lesiri corpse among them. The bunkers were burned out, guard stations smashed, the nooks scoured. The coalition had been thorough – furiously so. He approved.

* * *

Coalition columns of mixed units marched down the winding, twisting valleys of the Tibesti mountain range. It lasted for miles, even spiraling, ever meandering, until it finally lead to one vast plateau. On the other side of the plateau lay a pair of heavy iron gates. And on the other side of the gates, no doubt, lay their target: the rest of the Covenant forces. 

There, the Arbiter and his Elites, Grunts and Hunters, the Master Chief and his Marines and ODSTs, Albel and his Lesiri, joined up. The advancing columns had been bombarded by ambushes, but thanks to the Arbiter's tactic, casualties were minimal. Together, they formed ranks, waiting for their foe to show up.

Slowly, the gates lumbered open. A horde of Covenant warriors charged out. Battle would be joined for the last time.

Covenant fighters poured out of the gates to the plateau, like visions through rising heat. Beyond those iron gates, hundreds more filed forward. Rank on rank, they filed onto a meat grinder.

The Arbiter was one blade in that meat grinder. He and the Praetor led the Elites in a furious charge forth, towards an imposing artillery position. The Arbiter's sword rang like a deadly bell as he hewed his way through. The Praetor's pike whirled around him in deadly circles. The Elites did their vicious best, fighting for their ancestors as if the Arbiter was an avatar of them. For all their fury though, the Arbiter and his troops could do little more than slay. Covenant bodies made walls before them.

Across the plateau was another blade in the meat grinder. Albel's Gunblade opened the belly of a Brute. Entrails cascaded out. The beast trod on them and slipped. Albel turned and chopped down into the head of another Brute. The steeled helmet and thick skull was no match for sharpened steel. The First Deathdealer wrenched his weapon free, simultaneously driving his steel claws into the eyes of a third Brute. It fell onto the flood and skidded before Nel.

She fought beside him with equal valor, though less battle lust. An efficient sword swinger, Nel had enough time to defend herself, strike out at foes, and patch the wounds of casualties around her. All around them fought Lesiri legionnaires, armed with glittering blades, shining armor, and steely resolve.

The defenders of Earth brought death to hundreds upon hundreds of Covenant fighters, but there were more waiting beyond the gate. For half an hour they fought in this breathless, hopeless battle, and had not gained an inch towards the iron gates.

In the next moments, the battle grew worse. The Covenant appeared to be lessening, but fought with a sudden, unanimous purpose. They pushed back the coalition forces several dozen yards back.

Roaring, Nel clove the head of a Brute foot soldier. She climbed his fallen body, a ramp up the wall of fiends. Claws and plasma lashed out at her legs. Nel slashed the limbs away. A Jackal shield-bearer reared up to block her path. She merely vaulted over its shield before sinking her blade into the thing's eye. The female warrior scrambled up the bleeding form. Albel brought up the rear.

Valiant charges like this, initiated from all over the coalition lines broke out, with brave warriors gaining some hard-fought ground, and leading their fellows behind them. The Arbiter was one of them. Swinging his sword with a great cry of might, he sent four beasts flying from the blow. Two were plucked off by human riflemen whilst still in the air. The other two were impaled onto the massed pikes of a Grunt platoon.

Before the Arbiter could swing again, another beast slumped forward across his path, its torso shattered as though by some incredible force.

Gabbling, the Arbiter raised his eyes to see the incredible force. "Chief!"

The Spartan answered with a nod. He swept out the butt of his rifle and smashed the torso of another Brute before launching a volley of rounds that smashed through armor like a nutcracker.

As he slotted in another clip, he rumbled, "Let us fight together."

The Elite nodded back, hacking his blade through Jackals. Side by side, Spartan and Elite fought the minions of the Covenant.

The Grunts lifted their pikes up high, and brought them down in a killing hail. Covenant fighters fell in scraps. A human war cry ululated throughout the plateau. Marines fought with a renewed vengeance. Lesiri blades carved monstrous flesh.

Surrounded on all sides, Covenant warriors died. There were no more reserves. There was no escape. Coalition forces marched in through the iron gates, and they gave no quarter.

Blades and pikes splashed into glistening blood. Severed arms twitched in gore. Veins pumped the last remnants of blood from sliced arteries. Skulls were hacked in two. Spines squirmed from dying bodies.

Nel repaid her hard knocks by lopping the head off a Brute foot soldier. Albel sliced monsters as though he was hacking cane. The Praetor whipped his pike in a killing arc. The Arbiter split a beast through its crown. The Master Chief was a silver tornado, spinning around and blasting scores of Covenant fighters without a moment's pause.

In brutal moments, every Covenant warrior's head fell. One by one, the last of the invaders died. One by one, swords ceased in the air, pikes froze, and rifle chambers were left to cool. There was no more flesh to cleave, no more targets to shoot.

Could it be the battle of the Sahara was done? Could it be the battle was won? Coalition troops flooded into the Covenant stronghold, seeking a foe to slay. But there were none.

"We did it," the Arbiter whispered breathlessly, "Chief! We did it!"

The Chief studied his bloodied bayonet and overheating rifle. "Yes," he said heavily, "It is done."

Standing beside the two warriors, Trandoshan let out a celebratory cry, which was carried over the battlefield by all who were present.

Albel stood, gazing grimly at the wreckage and corpses all around. He was then jolted out of his trance-like state when his Deathdealers lifted him on their shoulders and carried him around, surrounded by throngs of Lesiri legionnaires and other coalition warriors. This victory belonged to all, not just to the Lesiri.

A plateau that, moments before, had echoed with battle, suddenly rang with jubilant celebration.

Nel managed to squeeze her way past the horde of revelers to get to Albel, before embracing him, tearing.

"I guess sometimes the good guys do win."

* * *

A/N: It's done. The first epic battle sequence in this fic is done. If you liked it, spam the review button. Who knows? There might be another one just around the corner. 

Master out.

A/N 2: Oh, and sorry if you were expecting to see more of Fayt's Destruction Gene, but unfortunately we were unable to squeeze it in. There'll be much more in future chapters though.

Chief out.

P.S.: By the way, the Tibesti Mountains are a real mountain range in the Sahara. Do Google or Wiki it if you have the time.


End file.
